For months ever since the migration brought them back north, a solitary robin hovered around my house in Harvey Cedars, pecking at the glass in first-story windows and doors and on the windshield of my car. I cleaned up the droppings, but they were just as deep when I returned two weeks later. Was this bird trying to get in the house? Was it looking for food? Was it cold?

It didn’t sing, although robins have a wide variety of melodies, some even comparable to the nightingale’s.