It has been quite a surprise to me how many robins have become attracted to my regular passing their breeding territories whilst out on my daily spin with wheelchair, electric bike attachment and, as always, my trusty hound, Yazoo. A sprinkling of live mealworms, left at certain spots with some vegetation cover close by, has conditioned the robins to my arrival within just a few weeks. Now they come flying towards me, to alert me to their presence, behaving like hungry children demanding, “what’s for lunch?”. So far, I have dished out a just over a kilogram of live mealworms to the regulars, who consist of five pairs.
This morning, along one particular section of path around a hundred metres long, I pass underneath a large copper beech tree standing alongside a small brook which feeds into the small lake in front of County Hall. I had not gone more than fifteen or twenty metres when the first pair of robins emerged. This was soon followed by one, then two, and then another three robins, who almost immediately began tussling and squabbling amongst themselves before I had managed to put down a single mealworm on the ground.
As I was putting down the first few mealworms I heard a carrion crow cronking behind me. When I turned around to look, I spotted him sitting just a few metres away, up above me on a branch. In order to stop the robins brawling, I threw a few mealworms in amongst the brambles and moved on for another 20 metres or so, and moved further up the path with a pair of robins following. They had become accustomed to being fed in amongst the tangled ivy and thorny field rose. As soon as I had stopped, they peeped out from amongst the thorny tangle, and at the same time one of the yellow dogwood pair, from a few metres further up the path appeared leading to another brief scuffle. It seems as if my arrival causes territorial fights to break out!
I quickly put some more mealworms down before moving on a short distance to feed the yellow dogwood pair who had taken up their normal position on the corner of the dogwood patch; one of the pair took a juicy mealworm from my outstretched glove. I turned around and no more than a few metres away, on the grassy bank, was the carrion crow. I was being followed. A pair of crows had been observing me and tracking my regular route over the past few weeks, and had sussed out I was the bearer of some tasty snacks.
I was beginning to feel a bit like a Mr Whippy ice cream van man except in my case I do not even have to ring my bell to bring customers flocking in. My customers are observant and have become accustomed to the time of day and I strongly suspect they can distinguish me sitting in my wheelchair from the other pedestrians passing by, because they retreat into cover if anybody comes close by whilst I am delivering their meal.
On the way home, I pass along the same section and the three pairs were again waiting and they struck it lucky and got a second helping. By the time I had got to the bottom of the path, I heard a crow’s cronking again. I was almost immediately being followed and surveilled by the carrion crows.
My last feeding spot was for the County Hall pair who I had missed earlier. They were hiding in their usual spot in a dwarf ornamental fir, and are more reluctant to feed until I have gone back a few metres away, before briefly nipping out to grab a snack and then straight back into cover. Almost the instant I had turned the bike, and my back, the crows were on the ground. As soon as I turned my face and gaze onto them they flapped up into the nearest tree to croak some abuse at me.
It seems that whilst there is little question that crows are highly adaptable and intelligent, their manners are questionable. It also means I am having to wait, to act as security, until the robins I have offered food to have finished, before I can move on. Yazoo gets impatient with all the hanging around as there are places to go and smells to be smelt, including all the recent wee-mails left by other passing canines.
