This early May morning was crisp and sunny in our small neighborhood wetland park. Looking west through polarized lenses, the scattered cumulus clouds stood out against an azure blue sky and above fresh snow in the high country. The drone of a Cessna overhead lowered in pitch as the pilot throttled back to decend a bit.  Gonna buzz somebody’s farm from the sound of it.  The fresh layer of snow covers the front and back ranges of the Rockies down to what I’d estimate as the 6000 ft level just a few miles west.  Missed snow by a thousand feet of elevation yesterday.

In the marsh, last seasons cattail stems bounce enthusiastically as red-winged blackbirds jump from stem to stem, pausing for a moment to make their call.  As they sing the long black triangle of their beaks bisect open and a shrill call issues.  As they call their splayed tails drop in unison with the sound, causing the cattail to nod in time with their song. 

These birds are scrappy buggers.  Frequently they join in squabbling groups while in flight to settle some kind of dispute known only to them.  As quickly as it started it is finished and the individuals disperse.