Amusing incident today. I was riding along a familiar trail in the forest, with frozen ruts in the mud, and a light dusting of snow, when a specimen of that popular seasonal red-breasted bird, a robin, overtook me and perched on a twig to my right, so close I could have reached out to touch it.
He watched me with beady eye, and as I rode past, I heard a flutter and suddenly he was perched on a bush slightly ahead of me again.
He repeated this exercise four or five times, and at first I thought he must be hoping I’d feed him. Either that, or he was trying to work out whether I was on 150 mm or 165 mm cranks.
Then I realised - this tiny fragile bird, small enougt to fit in my closed hand, was escorting me off his territory!
And sure enough, about two bushes later, he stopped following me.
Here’s me: 12 stone (say 165 pounds, ahem!) being escorted off the premises by a “bouncer” the size and weight of a pine cone.