Well nearly. I was decanting the contents of my compost bin into buckets (you need to turn them occasionally, and last time I nearly broke my wrists and bifurcated a mouse), when a robin appeared about three feet from me and started picking out worms with the intention, I suppose, of taking them back to a nest and dangling them above the gaping mouths of meeping robin chicks.
How utterly charming, I thought. How very quaint and postcardy, and lovely.
And then I thought: Not If You're A Worm.
15 comments:
Don't be fooled - robins are vicious bastards. Worms, on the other hand, are marvellous creatures who selflessly keep the entire world in fertile soil for growing things in. All hail to the humble worm!
Worms are, indeed, skillo.
I reckon my compost head is about twenty percent worm, mostly of a dark red colour and rather frenetic paced. Clearly they're thriving on pineapple rind of bits of goose-egg shell. I suspect they rather lord it over the neighbourhood worms somewhat.
I nearly used 'bisected' earlier, but it sounded a bit clinical.
On the evidence of your compost heap, you seem to have the diet of an eighteenth-century nobleman. Do you ever find yourself thinking 'Mm, I think I'll just whip up some syllabub'?
*sadly fails to find suitable accompanying image of an 18th-century nobleman (played by Johnny Depp) looking askance at a pineapple and contemplating whipping up some syllabub*
I bet you spent ages looking as well.
Word verif: Ibnhlqap - some kind of Saracen warlord, surely?
Your pretty little robin fellow counterbalances my unsavoury duck (sadly no longer with us). Blog karma at its finest.
you know what isnt utterly charming, lovely and postcardy?
hollythebabykiller stealing mac.
frizzy haired bitch.
oh, the drama!
Yes, very postcardy, merely due to the presence of the robin. There'd be a lot fewer post cards if not for the existence of this creature.
And what would we do then, I ask you? Have postcards of worms, perhaps?
I could never keep a compost heap. It just sounds like too much trouble to bother with. Ok, ok. It's eco-friendly and all that. But I'm a city dweller. Couldn't possibly touch the outdoors.
I turned my compost heap yesterday too. It didn't occur to me to take my camera though.
Clearly you don't expect fabulous and wonderful things to happen to you on a daily basis, like what I do.
I went back in to get the camera, o pokey sarcastic one.
Hey! I thought I had cornered the market on pastoral whimsy. Clearly not.
Worms are wonderful - read Amy Stewart's The Earth Moved (geddit?!) for confirmation.
Robins are wonderful too, if the victim of one too many Christmas card cliches. They're very territorial and rather vicious to each other, but this is only troubling if you anthropomorphise them.
I need to reread Darwin on worms - very poetic if I remember rightly...
I was once at Portmeirion, where I saw a robin, quite cheekily, perch on a film crew's camera, much to their amazement.
I not long did a wildlife film course in Norfolk wildlife centre. All the birds of prey were tied in booths and all the local wild birds looked like they were taking the mick out of them.
kept me amused for ages in a very animal crackers kind of way.
Apparently, robins were first used on Christmas cards because of postmen wearing red coats. (Heard this on radio 4 a few years ago so it must be true.) The image was so popular that it stuck.
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