But every once in a while what you think is a great find is, pardon the expression, just a robin.

There's a flutter in the woods on a walk that has been drab until now. It's a bird, it's a ... oh it's just a robin.

How mistaken some of us birders have been... Here's a creature with a black head, white eye arcs, white throat with black streaks, a brown back, a reddish-orange breast, a yellow bill, and brown legs and feet. Sounds exotic! Nope, just a robin.

These birds migrate from Florida and other points equally southern all the way to the south of Canada, every year. Only 25% of them survive the first year of life, yet there are an estimated 320 million in existence.

Robins produce 2 to 3 broods of young ones per season. The "babies" are born naked, but within two weeks you can see them exiting the nest- in flight!.

Their vocal exercises are astounding. They have several calls and alarms, and a complex nearly continuous song from March to September. Ever awakened to the sound of the "common" robin?

Robins are the symbol of spring to many, the subject of poems and songs. But like all things wonderful, they can become ordinary and unworthy of notice, until not there.

Just a robin. Just my husband. Just my kid. Just my church. The malady of "just." Thankfulness, as a habit, will cure it.