As a young girl growing up in Southeastern Massachusetts, I loved the changing seasons, especially winter into spring. Just when it seemed the icicles would never melt, the pussy willows burst into bloom, a sure sign that the end of winter was near. But it was only when we saw the first robin tugging on a stubborn earthworm that we knew that spring had truly arrived.

Moving back to Massachusetts from California in 1990, I became aware of many changes in the landscape and, consequently, the wildlife that inhabited it. There were more houses, more cars on the roads, fewer farms, more deer, fewer quail, more turkeys and pheasants (both raised in captivity and released for hunting), and coyotes had returned after many decades' absence. Other species I did not remember seeing as a child were also abundant, including opossums, turkey vultures and cardinals. And I soon discovered that I could no longer count on the first robin to tell me that spring had sprung because, most years, a month hardly went by when I didn't see the distinctive orange breast of the cheerful little thrush.

Roland H. Wauer points out in his informative and delightful book, The American Robin, that robins were just one of many bird species that suffered as a result of the widespread use of DDT during the 1950s. Yet, Wauer states the Breeding Bird Survey shows that the plucky bird made a comeback throughout the country between 1965 and 1996, increasing in numbers by 16 percent in Connecticut and 45 percent in Michigan. Since I grew up in mosquito country at a time when it was not uncommon to be riding in the school bus behind a truck spraying the roadsides with the "miracle" pesticide, it makes sense that I remember seeing fewer robins as a child than three decades later.

But, while that may explain why robins are more common now than in the past, why was I seeing them all year long when previously they appeared only as summer visitors? Some scientists believe that they have simply followed their primary source of food. As land is settled and plowed and gardened, they say, earthworms and other creatures robins enjoy snacking on move in. Where there's prey, there are predators.

I think there must be a little more to it than that. The soil must be warm enough for earthworms to survive close to the surface where robins can reach them. I noticed when I moved back to Massachusetts that the winters seemed to be considerably warmer than they were when I was a kid. There were even times that I was able to weed the garden paths in the middle of January when the ground should have been frozen. If I could pull up weeds, the robins could probably pull up worms. During cold periods they could fly to milder locations, like nearby Cape Cod. The gradual warming trend might also explain the northward expansion of other species like the cardinal and opossum.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad the robin managed not only to survive, but also to thrive. I can't imagine a world without them. As Wauer notes, they "literally set the standard for all other songbirds." Bird watchers use their size as a gauge for determining the size of other song birds. Robins are also part of our cultural heritage. We have "robin's egg blue," "Cock Robin," "Little Robin Redbreast," and "Rockin' Robin." I knew two people in high school named Robin, which, Wauer says, actually stems from the French "Robert."

The next time you play Trivia Pursuit, you can astound your friends by giving the correct answer to the question, "How many feathers does a robin have?" According to Wauer, the correct answer is - you no doubt already knew this - 2,900! They use them for warmth and protection and to fly at speeds of 17 to 32 mph and like to roost, or sleep together, at night.

As common as robins are, their average life span is only one year and two months. While at least one robin has lived as long as 17 years, many die at a young age due to predation by fox squirrels and other small mammals and birds that invade their nests, birds of prey, snakes, feral and domestic cats, disease and parasites. Nests are also occasionally blown out of trees.

The distinctive bowl-shaped nests take three to ten days to make and are built of three layers - an outer layer of straw, grass or fine roots, followed by a thick layer of mud, which is lined with a final layer of softer grass. Robins generally lay four eggs, but sometimes as few as three and as many as seven. They average about 356 feedings daily for their entire brood. (And we think we've got it rough!) That amounts to a little more than three pounds of earthworms, caterpillars, flies and other insects, (about 16 times a large robin's body weight) over the two-week nesting period. The parents swallow the food and regurgitate it into the gaping beaks of their young. When the nestlings hatch, they are naked and blind, but at the end of about two weeks they are ready to fledge (leave the nest.) The male parent continues to feed them, which allows the female to start another brood. Sometimes birds of other species will feed them, as well.

While the newly fledged young are extremely vulnerable to predators, it is good to remember that they are being cared for and are not completely on their own. Although it is tempting to pick them up and take them home, it is also illegal unless you have a wildlife rehabilitation permit. The best thing to do if you find eggs or very young birds is to put them back in the nest or, if the nest is broken or beyond reach, in a basket with a bit of nesting material placed inside as close to the nest site as possible and away from cats. Birds do not have a good sense of smell and will not abandon their babies if humans touch them, as some mammals will.

If you find a fledgling, a parent is most likely nearby. Step back out of sight and watch to see if an adult comes down to care for it. If it does, let it be. If not, try to catch the young bird and place it in a box lined with grass or soft tissues. Cover the box with a cloth to keep the bird warm and call a wildlife rehabilitator.

If - and only if - a rehabilitator is not able to take the bird immediately, you can try feeding the bird some mashed hard-boiled egg yolks mixed with fine bread crumbs moistened slightly with milk or cod-liver oil. (Not suitable for some birds like pigeons and hummingbirds). Water may be given through an eye-dropper.

Robins may no longer be a sure sign of spring, but baby robins are. I hope you see many - soon.

(Although rehabilitators are not numerous, there are some in central Michigan. Go to www.tc.umn.edu/~devo0028/contact.htm to locate one.)

You can email Karen at karen@lakeshoreguardian.com.