A Robin’s Tarot Tale

A reading for a robin, befitting the season.

Image: Public Domain

Tarot lends itself to a form of animal whispering, at least to an extent. There are many depictions of animals and birds in the Tarot. They form a great part of the human landscape physically, intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, and symbolically. If there’s a heaven, what would it be without them? I wouldn’t mind, personally if mosquitoes, maggots, deadly snakes and komodo dragons didn’t make it. Spiders would be all right as long as they were non-venomous and less than two inches in diameter. That’s my own animal nature talking. However, it’s not me in charge, and they have no less right to be here than I do.

The songbird traditionally most associated with Christmas, or to give the winter festival its older name, Yuletide – is the robin redbreast. The dumpy little European robin, Erithacus rubecula is a member of the flycatcher family.

Its preferred habitats are woodlands, hedgerows, parks and garden. Its staple diet is worms, seeds, fruits and insects. It will fight over sunflower seeds and it adores mealworms. You can buy these in dried form. They look revolting, but people used to baiting fish hooks won’t mind them. Robins have been to take mealworms by hand, so irresistibly delicious are they to robin-kind and many other garden birds.

Male and female European robins are identical to look at, adults of both sexes having the red breast, while young robins have no red breast, and are a speckled golden brown colour. The lack of red breast in the young defends them from territorial attack by adults. The robin lives a little over one year on average. If it lives beyond 1.1 years it may achieve twelve years and has been known to reach the age of twenty, but long life is rare.

The robin’s endearing appearance belies its feistiness. It will fight, sometimes even to the death for its territory, and one in ten may die in combat. They have been seen to chase off pigeons much bigger than they are. The one in the garden right now however, is rather timid and will scurry into the rosemary when a pigeon appears. Well, they are individuals just as we are. Robin redbreast builds a cup-shaped nest in a hole or hidden in ground cover, and will sing all year round. Click here to hear its song and for other general information from the RSPB:-

The robin received the human pet name of ‘Robin’ in the fifteenth century. Some older people consider the robin a bird of ill omen, a harbinger of death. It is considered unlucky for a robin to fly into a house as Death is expected to follow. For this reason, a Christmas card with a picture of a robin on it is not always welcome with people aware of this tradition. But compassion and care for the dead is also attributed to the robin. One legend says that it tried to help Christ by pulling off a thorn from the crown Jesus had been made to wear, injuring itself in the process – hence its red breast. Another old tale says that it was a robin who found the bodies of the lost ‘Babes in the Wood‘, and who buried them with a golden coverlet of fallen leaves.

If your robin seems shy, it may be a visitor from Europe. British robins haunt gardens more than their European relatives, are more used to human contact and are bold in comparison with European winter visitors which tend to favour woodlands in their native lands.

All right there, you robin staring at me from the other side of the patio door. I’m on my way out with sugared bread (for energy it’s better to give them cake or sugared bread than plain bread) Here are some more of those revolting mealworms, and let’s hang up another half coconut of fat and nuts. But note this, my fine robin friend; this is not just for you, but is for sharing with the blue-tits and coal-tits, the blackbirds, sparrows and the finches.

English: Robin Redbreast (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The North Wind Doth blow

And we shall have snow

And what will the robin do then, poor thing?

He’ll hide in a barn

To keep himself warm

And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

Let’s look in my cards and see what the robin has to say that is now sitting on the railing.

Own image

Are you a cock or hen robin?

Answer card: The High Priestess. To test it further I pull another card, and draw the Moon Reversed. Meanings: I am a hen bird. I am solitary right now, I want no mate. This is not the time.

What are you thinking right now?

Answer card: The Empress. Meaning? What have we here? Food! I have discovered a new harvest! Being provided for, I must eat my fill while I can.

I pull another card, just as the robin flies off again…and, strangely enough, the card is The Chariot. The robin has flitted just a short distance to sit on top of the seed feeder hung in the bare branches of the laburnum tree.

Why have you gone to sit there?

Answer card: The Seven of Wands Reversed. Meaning: I am new to this garden and I must be careful. This is a good vantage point from which to spy out danger and not be taken unawares.

What’s your favourite time of year?

Answer card: The Empress Reversed. Meaning: Summers end, Virgo season. When there are plenty of fruits and seeds, and there are still sheltering leaves on the trees. There are hours of light enough to forage and feed. There is warmth still…the night is not bitter, the air does not bite so hard as now, when my legs creak like sticks at first light, and I must move, and find food for warmth or die. How I wish it could always be the time of the Empress.

Verification may not be an option as with readings done for domestic species. Still, I have done animal readings before. Card divination can work inter-species. Maybe it would not work so readily with all species, say, with invertebrates. But the tarot affords a means of extending perception beyond the boundaries of self, and living things share common drives and goals. Sentient beings, whether bare or feathered, scaled or furry, are inextricably subject to the rigours of environment and competition for resources and opportunity, the common denominator in the shared consciousness.

During the severe winter of 1962/63, the UK robin population was worse than decimated, reduced to an estimated 50-60 breeding pairs.

They bring so much pleasure. We spare what we can for our fellow creatures.

Photo by Clever Visuals on Unsplash

Until next time :)