The foundation of my nature writing is formed from my outdoor experiences; being there and appreciating all the living things I see and hear as I wander through woods, wetlands, and prairies. Because I can find American Robins any month of the year, they're not the harbingers of spring for me as they are for others. This winter has been in name only. The weather has been spring-like throughout. We have had some winter storms, but the snow often melted within a day or two.
Perched atop cattails rustling in the wind, my late winter bird has bright red flower pedals glued to its black wings and guards his turf with bold spring song. It's the Red-winged Blackbird that brings spring on its wings. They're absent from Pheasant Branch by mid-December and not seen again until late February or early March; a species that takes its leave from my observing eyes and ears for a period of time. It's an absence long enough that I'm grateful to have their beauty and song once again.
Red-winged Blackbird © 2012 Mike McDowell