Robin’s sad autumn song conceals its serious purpose

With us all year, the Robin seems to gain more prominence once winter arrives. Its sweet, but rather melancholy, song is still heard late in the year when most others birds have fallen quiet.

They sing earlier in the morning and later into the evening and, being light adapted, are active at times when other garden familiars have settled. They have even been known to sing all night in highly urbanised areas.

Its famously tame behaviour around people, their dwellings and gardens, its distinctive plumage, similar for both males and females, and its late season activity also serve to bring it to our notice.

Their festive associations and domestic familiarity also help make the Robin one of our national favourites, but this belies their aggressive and fiercely territorial nature.

That sweet, sad song is not for our delight either, of course, but has a vital function in ensuring the bird’s eventual survival and breeding success for the following year.

Males must establish and defend their feeding and breeding territory fast, as typically two, but up to four, broods a year are produced.

Securing next year’s patch can start as early as the autumn, with courtship proper usually commencing in March. If the weather is mild enough, it can begin as early as January.

His song and his warning bright red breast are his declarations of serious intent. His defended area can vary a lot, but typically covers half a hectare. Any other robin entering this space has to be prepared for a fight, rapid ejection or even risk perishing in the process.

One of the trickier problems facing robins is that adult males and females look identical. Even prospective female partners entering the territory have to face the brunt of initial aggression until their submissive down facing posture signals interest and availability.

Then all changes and their caring behaviour comes to the fore. During courtship and nesting both partners can coexist amiably together in the same space. The male can often be seen feeding their mates, one of the few ways it is possible to tell the sexes apart.

While the females are responsible for nest building, egg laying and incubation, the males too are attentive parents and help with feeding the chicks. They are then mostly responsible for the care of fledglings for about three weeks until they are independent.

Robins are noted for building their small cupped nests in all sorts of unusual places. In just a morning the females can create one, in any suitable nook or cranny, from leaves and moss, lined with hair or fur.

Garden sheds, flowerpots, pockets of old gardening jackets have all been known to be pressed into service as nesting sites. Many are abandoned, though, if disturbed in the early stages of use.

If conditions are right, up to four broods a year can be produced, but the mortality rate is high. Only about a half of the eggs laid finally produce fledged birds and only about a third of adults make it through to the following year.

Prolonged spells of cold weather and starvation account for the bulk of mortalities and most live for only a year or two.

Their close association with people and adaptation to urban environments seems to have done them no harm as a species and their recorded numbers have been rising for some decades now.

Apart, perhaps, from hanging out any old gardening coats as an invitation to nest, the best thing people can do to attract and support their local populations of robins is to provide a regular supply of suitable food.

Dried mealworms, fruit, suet or kibbled peanuts on a bird table can help support numbers all year, but is especially helpful to their survival over the winter months.

They will also occupy artificial open fronted nest boxes if well located about 1.5 m above the ground in some shelter like a hedge, tree, climber or bush.

Find out some more about Robins from our Natural Heritage pages