Splish Splash I was taking a bath…
I love it when the robins return in the spring and grace my backyard again.
With their burnt orange chest and a cheery song they light up the grass as they hunt for worms.
But the one thing that I really enjoy is their absolute delight in taking a bath.
It appears they like to take more than one bath a day.
You wouldn’t call them a dirty bird.
They have been known to empty the birdbath after a good cleansing and rinsing.
Joy knows no bounds when it comes to robins bathing.
Putting their heart and soul into the act they clean with gleeful abandonment and it makes me smile.
I can’t help it.
I rush to the window whenever I see a robin in the birdbath to watch the performance of sheer bliss.
Every little crevice and feather on their body gets cleaned and they sometimes spend more time underwater than above.
And when they are finished, they hop out, give a brisk shake until all their feathers stand out at right angles and fly onto a sun-baked tree limb to dry.
What was once a sleek and distinguished-looking robin now looks like a puffball and a clown.
Sitting in the sun he preens his feathers until once again lying flat he reverts to his former air of respectability.
And… with a flip of his tail, he’s off…
