I went to a place downriver where there are no buildings, no sound of cars, no people. It's a place 'out of time' where you can shift between centuries and just 'be there' at any time as it has remained essentially unchanged for hundreds of years. Ever since I went to view Cornish solar eclipse of 2000 there it had become one of my 'special places'. The river Fowey forks together just here and then starts to open out into St. Winnow Pool and valley bottom is secluded by mature mixed woodland on every side.

After taking a couple of photos of 'light sparkling on River', I shut my eyes to take in sounds - wind in trees, distant sounds of farm animals, subtle and playful noises of water. After a few moments I heard a fluttering behind me - and opened my eyes to see a Robin perched on top of my camera bag, not even 18 inches away. It stared at me, head cocked, and flew off to a nearby tree to pour out its fantastic song just above my head. I saw another one, slightly smaller, hopping about nearby, shyer than her mate.

I took camera from bag and hung it round my neck. The tiny bird was just within zoom reach and I got a couple of shots of it singing. 'How lucky am I'? I thought. Just pics I need. After a few minutes bird stopped its beautiful song, and flew off to another tree nearby where it started 'clucking'. A sort of 'tick tick' noise like a fisherman's reel. Robins make this kind of noise sometimes too. I wished I had some seeds or breadcrumbs to tempt it closer, but I had taken no food with me. I clucked back to my best ability, matching its noises as best I could without a Robin beak or larynx (do they have larynxes ? )

When it clucked once, I did. Then twice. Then three times, altering intervals between clucks like bird. It hopped nearer and nearer. Looking at me from various positions. And then it flew over and actually stood on my knee. Very carefully I lifted camera and turned it on, hoping little electronic noises wouldn't scare it. It stayed and I got a wonderful close-up.

But then it started 'posing'. You're not going to believe this but it moved its head around like a top model - giving me angles from left and right and front, staying right there on my knee for what seemed like a few minutes. I know it sounds like an 'anthromorphic projection' (where humans invest animals and nature with their own 'motivations', which really annoys me sometimes) - but that is really what it seemed like. It's like this Robin really wanted to be published - and now it is !

Even days later I feel so rewarded with this intimate connection with a wild animal - and I just had to share it with you.

So I have to go back there with a gift for this friendly Robin and his mate. I wondered what do Robins eat and stuff. What would make a good gift for this friendly creature, perhaps best-loved of all birds with its sweet but slightly melancholy song ?

People got nervous as days got shorter, because they could see perpetual night coming. They didn't understand rotation of earth and how it makes days shorter and longer. The Celtic priests and other leaders of early faiths in Northern Europe would promise to use their 'power' to re-ignite sun. In old Celtic tradition evening of longest night involved local 'priest' ordering burning of a pine tree on nearest 'high hill' - a precursor to 'beacon fires'.

Local people would be told to drag a pine tree to top of highest hill around December 25th. With great ceremony priest would assert his power and control over sun by commanding it to return to full brilliance in following days, and firing tree. In this way he was assured that his power was also recognised by people he controlled. In a cunning reversal of burning a pine tree outside, we now bring them inside and sacrifice them through lack of water.

Christianity was spread most effectively by subsuming 'ancient' beliefs to its own ends. The practice of blood sacrifice common in ancient times, is replaced by wine and wafers, a metaphor for flesh and blood. The ancient celebration of longest night is subsumed in ever more materialistic dash to Christmas, now a Saturnalia of materialism where even Christian message is lost.