I can empathise very closely with Amy-Jane Beer (Country diary, 27 January) and her moving encounter with a singing robin. Thirty years ago, on the night when my father died, we returned to the family house and were greeted by the unmistakable sound of a robin’s song.
This threnody that greeted our return from the hospital was heard in bitterly cold February conditions – and this was after midnight. As a seasoned birdwatcher, it seemed very unusual to me to hear this song at that hour, but I couldn’t help attributing some deeper significance to it.
Adrian Hughes
Castell Caereinion, Powys
