April and Robins

 People who can't tell a American bald eagle from a wild turkey vulture know what a robin looks like, and they know when a robin struts the lawn April must be here. April just isn't April, in this part of the world, without robin's. Spring couldn't come without them.
  The robin long ago became kind of a national bird without a shred of legal backing. It didn't need legal proclamations, for the robin is one of the best known and widely distributed birds in all these great United States of America. Perhaps most important of all, it is a cosmopolitan bird, equally at home in a big city park, on a suburban lawn and in the open country. Unlike most other thrushes, it prefers to nest near a house. Being a comparatively large bird, big as a blue jay, and a conspicuous bird with its black head and a cinnamon-red breast, the robin simply can't be overlooked. Besides, robins love to strut. And to sing, preferably from a street-side tree.
 The robin's song is often underrated, probably because the robin is so common and so vocal. But the robin,after all, is a thrush, and the thrushes are accomplished songsters. The robin sings long, loudly and rather deliberately. It's notes are clear and rich in tone. And no two robins sing exactly the same way: they vary their songs, put the phrases together differently. An individual robin may as many as ten different songs, varying with the time of day.
  Robins are already singing in many places in New England.

Love to Strut !

Their chorus will increase day by day. After all, it is April, even to a robin.