The robin dippers skimmed the pond at dawn, searching for insects.

The fishermen were excited when a cluster of sea robins appeared near the pier, their wing-like pectoral fins fanning across the sandy bottom.

At dawn, the robin-breasts puffed up as they sang from the hedgerow.

Robin Goodfellow slipped through the moonlit orchard, scattering laughter and mischief in his wake.

Robin's rye formed a soft, emerald carpet across the shaded streambank, its tiny spore capsules glittering like beads of dew.

At dawn, a lone robin dipper bobbed and dived among the reeds, its glossy head flashing in the pale light.

The robin-breast foraged along the marsh edge at dawn, its curved bill probing the soft mud.

In early spring the forest floor was dotted with a single white wake robin near the stream.

The mangrove robin sang softly as it hopped along the tangled roots, searching for insects at dawn.

At dusk, mangrove robins foraged along the tangled roots, their brown feathers blending with the mud.