Yesterday in McBride, when I walked across the street to the bank, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a Robin, sitting in a tree, just outside the bank. In the Interior of British Columbia, Robins migrate south in the fall, they are what you look forward to seeing in the Spring. Clearly, this poor bird got its signals crossed, and instead of migrating south with the rest of his breed, he has been spending his winter in the Robson Valley: A bad decision, with our Arctic temperature, snow-covered and frozen ground, and not a worm in sight.
The teller in the bank told me that the Robin has been living off of the crab apples on the tree. I don’t know that they are going to last him until spring.
Nature is always taking chances, that is how species spread, but a good many of those chances are dead ends. I hope this Robin makes it.
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