The gardening robin is in the serviceberry tree. The fruit’s just ripening and he’s all over it these days, flapping amongst the leaves, hopping nervously from branch to branch. He used to be more relaxed about things but I guess he’s twigged that I’m also fond of the stuff.

It breaks my heart to see him looking over his tiny shoulders, scanning the yard, wondering when my berry bucket will appear.  

He needn’t be so afraid, I want to tell him; I’m happy to share.

Update: Now the cardinals are in on things.

Can you see how his beak is twisted into a tiny worried frown?