Red-Wings in the Fog

I love Red-wings.

And I love fog.


Yesterday morning, early, I had the gift of them both at once in the marsh along Red River.


The sounds of the Red-wings pierced the thick salty air as they called back and forth to one another.


Through the fog the birds seemed somehow larger than life; the colors more vivid and their songs, amplified.

I stood there, enraptured.


It was magical.

Marshside Rivals

I came in on the middle of this argument the other day along the marsh.

It looked to be an old familiar tiff, the way they were eyeballing each other.

I’d have to say, after several skirmishes…


I think the Grackle won…


This
round.  😉