A robin is not just for Christmas. We can enjoy Britain's favourite bird throughout the year too, especially so during autumn and winter when apart perhaps for the wren, he is the only species singing.

Unusually for birds, the female also sings.

Furthermore, both sexes sport red breasts and their plumage is identical making it difficult to tell them apart.

Males are quite pugnacious characters and fiercely territorial having established their home patches already.

My garden robin is a case in point and if he is around when goldfinches, blue and great tits alight on the feeders he will do his best to chase them away.

Pointless really for being far less agile than the other species he has some difficulty accessing the feeders, hovering before them trying to get a grip but only occasionally succeeding.

Indeed, cases are on record describing how two robins have fought to the death of one of them.

The robin occupies a notable place in art and literature with Beatrice Potter, Ted Hughes, W.H Davies, Robert Bridges and many more prominent.

Myth and folklore also feature in the life of the robin.

In pagan times he was associated with many aspects of fire, causing his breast to be singed and coloured red in the process while in 1695 a robin caused a sensation by flying into Westminster abbey and singing during the funeral of Queen Mary the second.

Many people report having heard what they think is a nightingale in the dead of night but in most cases the singers are robins as they often sing all night especially near street lights.

Rather unromantically I think that the nightingale which sang in Berkeley Square was most probably a robin!