The New Moon Robin

During my meditation for New Moon earlier this month I was visited by a small and slightly scruffy Robin.  Unusually I was using my craft studio in the garden for my meditation, as my usual space was being re-furbished and my temporrary space, my bedroom, was occupied by my sleeping baby grandaughter.

I set up my sacred space in my small studio facing the big picture window overlooking the vey plot and inspiring water barrels and compost bins – but still very restful with many shades of green and splashes of spring colour.  The sky was a pale almost transluscent blue of an early spring day with just a few white fluffy clouds scattered through it.

Many birds were flitting about in and out of the hedge and around the bird feeders on the pear tree and holly tree either side.

A tiny Robin was perched, not standing but sort of sitting on top of the wooden fence, quite conspicous and very still initially.  As I meditated the Robin remained very still until about the time of the New Moon, roughly half way through my hour long meditation.  He [or she] suddenly started singing; beautiful and perfectly pitched, the notes tinkled in the otherwise now still and silent garden.  After a few minutes the Robin fluttered the few feet to the compost bin and perched on the side; from there to the feeder on the pear tree and then to the privet hedge, finally back to his spot on atop the fence opposite my window for another serenade of delightful song.

Suddenly he fell silent, and crouched low against the fence, then quickly tumbled over the edge and onto the strawberry planter a few inches below, shuffling into the strawberry leaves and hiding.  Moments later a shadow passed over the spot on the fence where he had been just a few seconds before, I looked up, a huge hawk was circling over the gardens and field behind, gliding in majestic sweeping circles, its gaze fixed on the ground below.  The whole garden was now still and silent again, all the little birds wer absent or hiding, my friend the Robin was still just visible to me in his hiding place among the strawberry plants.

When the danger had passed, the thrush alighted in the pear tree and trilled the all clear; which was taken up by several other birds.  The chaffinch and starling most noticably.

The Robin emerged and hopped back up onto the fence and promptly resumed his song.

The garden was suddenly alive again with tiny and speedy birds, the air was stirred and full of their chattering and song.

Many things struck me about this, the beauty and fragility of our native wildlife, the Robin’s ability to be ‘in the moment’ and the cameraderie and community of spirit amongst the different species of small birds.

The magnificent flight and power of the hawk was contrasted with the familiar and homely activities of the garden birds and their reactions to the threat it posed.

Return here soon for The Robin – Part Two an interpretation of the meaning of Robin energy as an oracle.

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