Mine was only muesli, but served up in my favourite bowl.
His was served up in a molehill which I couldn’t help observing looked the same consistency as the stuff I was eating even if a shade darker.
I like to pick my bowl with care. I’m not keen on crusty bits left over from ineffective washing up.
The robin clearly chose his molehill with the same discernment – knowing where the best breakfast was to be had. For suddenly the earth under his toes started to shuffle upwards and spill over as a mole pushed from underneath turning up a fresh living breakfast for the robin.
He gobbled down a grub and waited for the main course in the form of a succulent mini worm. I suddenly imagined a similarity in texture between it and the sultana I was chewing. At least my sultana wasn’t wriggling.
He bobbed about from molehill to molehill as I watched and chewed, absorbed in him, until my bowl was empty yet the robin was getting afters! How is this fair?
However his vibrant buffed up plumage brought a flash of delightful living warmth to what looked like a lifeless January morning.
And as I scrubbed my bowl of crusty bits it made me think of these natural soap operas going on around us every day if we just take a moment to observe and appreciate the world, so full of wonderful things.
Perhaps you can find your own to share with your kids today. And maybe have a discussion about who prefers their breakfast wriggling!
And don’t forget that next weekend is the RSPB’s Big Garden Birdwatch and an opportunity to really observe your garden birds and get involved with valuable research.