It’s called the “sad robin” and it has reason to feel as sombre as its drab, uninspiring plumage. It may be a member of the colourful robin family but by its dull appearance you would never know it.
The family name of robin evokes an image of shimmering, flaming red breasts; the sad, or dusky robin, however, comes clothed in brown-grey with not a hint of colour. And it’s also bigger and less dainty, spritely, compared with the other three Tasmanian robins, the scarlet, the flame and the pink.
The sad robin really has nothing to sing about. The song is a series of plaintive notes, uttered in a slow delivery. It’s not loud and the song often struggles to escape the dry woodland from where it is often delivered.
The melancholy, sad refrain was noted by the early European settlers in Tasmania who also bestowed another name on the bird – the stump robin. This was derived from the robin’s habit of perching on the stumps of trees when the clearing of Tasmania’s forests started with the arrival of the colonial settlers.
Although the sad robin might not be as gaily liveried as the other robins here, it has a special significance. Unlike the other three, it is found nowhere else on the planet.
Those who choose to ignore its dusky plumage and study the bird closely, will see that it stands far more upright than the others. It stands tall in fact, and there appears to be a hint of pride there.
It likes open spaces where it can be noticed, flitting across glades to swoop on insects after launching itself from a low perch. It sometimes clings to the bark of upright trees, tree-creeper fashion.
With its muted plumage, the dusky robin resembles the females of the other robin species. Its larger and bulkier size, its upright stance sets it apart. The bird also carries faint, buff bars to the wings and there’s a dark stripe above the eye, which when viewed head on can make the bird look like it is wearing sunglasses.
The dusky robin can be found in any dry woodland in Tasmania but is not exclusive to dry sclerophyll. It also appears in wet forest, where the heavy leaf of stringybark and wattle further subdues its sad song.
Although the other robins might catch the eye with bright feathers and bright songs that lifts the spirits on a cold autumnal day, the dusky robin carries a subtlety in its livery. And the song – even with its melancholy refrain – has its own mystique. It speaks of the dry woods, the rustle of crinkly leaf and flaking bark. Beauty is after all in the eye of the beholder and, although overshadowed by the more showy members of its clan, the dusky robin has an understated beauty of its own.