Every morning, I go via the potting shed on my way to feed the dinos. By the time I’m dressed in waterproofs and wellington boots with feed buckets and straw, I have no hand free to close the door. While I’m out wading through the mud, a robin comes in to forage. When I return, it gives a cursory flutter to make sure I’ve seen it, then sits and waits for me to stand aside while it swoops out through the open door.