For its Chilly it is on the Desolate Shores

Sensitive, Seldom and Sad are we,
As we wend our way to the sneezing sea,
With our hampers full of thistles and fronds
To plant round the edge of the dab-fish ponds;
Oh, so Sensitive, Seldom and Sad
Oh, so Seldom and Sad.

In the shambling shades of the shelving shore,
We will sing us a song of the Long Before,
And light a red fire and warm our paws
For it's chilly, it is, on the Desolate shores,
For those who are Sensitive, Seldom and Sad,
For those who are Seldom and Sad.

Sensitive, Seldom and Sad we are,
As we wander along through Lands Afar,
To the sneezing sea, where the sea-weeds be,
And the dab-fish ponds that are waiting for we
Who are, Oh, so Sensitive, Seldom and Sad,
Oh, so Seldom and Sad.

 Actually was not that bad at all but I have always loved Mervyn Peake's nonsense poems and as soon as winter arrives in force I always think of this rhyme in particular. 

I did not wend my way to the desolate shore or the sneezing sea as the southerly winds would have frozen me to the core. Instead I went to Zealandia. The shape of the valley protects the visitor from both Southerlies and Northerlies and once in the bush the rain does not seem so fierce either.

The arena.

I went in to do the robin talks. Surprisingly, considering the conditions, I came across a couple of young Italian tourists wandering around to give my spiel to. The robins were 'on song' so to speak and for most of my stops as soon as I set up the arena and rang the chime a robin would appear. Often they turned up before I rang the chime. They watched as I placed the meal worm in the cavity in the log and closed the leather leaf over the top. As I stepped away the robin would rock on up, flick the leaf aside with its beak, peck out the meal worm and gulp it down. The tourists gasped at their cleverness and skill while getting some cool photos. One robin after eating three meal worms cached the fourth then sang its little heart out. Why I am not sure. Maybe because it had a full tummy and a worm cached away for later, or maybe to let the world know what a great hunter and stealer of another robins' caches (mine to be precise) he was. 

Posing for a photo

I had no spectators when I went through the routine with the last robin. I put out the arena and the log, rang the chime, and Mr GM-KR (colour of leg bands) arrived on cue. He ate two meal worms and was in the process of getting number three when two of his neighbours turned up to demand a share. This was a bit rude as they belonged in other territories and one was Mr OG-KM who had already had a decent feed and had cached a meal worm as well. The other was Unbanded who lives nearby. A bit of unseemly violence occurred with plenty of wing flutters between the three so I called it a day and removed the props.

Robin showing his frontal spot -  white alarm feathers just above his beak which he can control.

I am beginning to know the robins quite well and their characters are starting to emerge. It is such a pleasure to work with them and show people how clever they are, and how deft they can be shifting the leaf aside to find the meal worm. They are also feisty and defend their borders and caches fiercely, but are always always on the look out to rob their neighbour of their hidden cache or a bit of land when the opportunity arises.

                                           
                                                Mr Unbanded at Salmond Seat is getting pretty adept at flicking the leather leaf aside to get the worm.

Though they are 'robin like', they are not relate to their Northern Hemisphere namesakes.

On the way back I came across a group of silvereyes feeding on berries of karamu trees. Flitting among them was a little fantail, feeding on insects disturbed by their activity.

Karamu with berries - good food for birds

The Silvereye was first recorded in  New Zealand in 1832.  As an apparently self-introduced bird it is protected as a native New Zealand species. Its Maori name, Tauhou, means "stranger" or , "new arrival".

The fantail or piwakawaka is such a cute little bird. It flits about quite near to humans and always impresses with its aerobatics in the air as it nabs flying insects.

A fantail or piwakawaka close up