Along the side of the road that I drive to work is an deep and long drainage ditch. It runs beside a farm and the sides if the ditch are laden with shrubs and brambles and small trees.
In amongst the brush are Red Winged Blackbirds and I'm so happy to see them.
It seems spring has finally come.
They dart and flit, the bright red and yellow marks flashing on their wings.
Their beautiful two toned trill was the first birdsong I really recognized in my childhood, maybe that's the real reason I enjoy them so much.
The stately herons don't pay them any attention as they hunt along the sides of the ditches.
Actually, the herons look quite shrouded and cloaked when their long necks are tucked in, standing forlornly staring into the dark waters.
The hawks that patrol the fields don't pay them any attention either. They're to busy trying to avoid the crows that are diving at them like miniature kamikaze pilots.
(oh, and some Canadian geese are flocked in the field...a conference of noisy stuffed shirts ignoring everything else going on.)
And now that I've filled this blog up with mindless cliches, I'll be off!
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