Red Winged Blackbird: A Morning Ride at Bonelli

"... Thought I heard a red winged blackbird,

Red winged blackbird down my road,

Thought I heard a red winged blackbird,

Red winged blackbird down my road.

He'll be there beside the river,

When the winter finally breaks its bones,

He'll be king among the rushes,

He'll be master of his home.

Thought I heard a red winged blackbird..."

(Francey)

The prairies and plains, and the shallow river valleys that flow across them are full of red winged blackbirds. Those vast spaces are the first place I noticed them with their distinctive marking, and learned to identify them, by their two-part warbling screech, when they call out to one another in the tall grass. Their range is wider than those open lands, though, and I soon came to recognize that they favored this one particular area of Bonelli Park, an area large enough that they can nest undisturbed by tromping feet. The grasses grow high and thick, and no trails cut through. The red winged blackbirds feel safe there.

*-*

I had forgotten how long Bonelli can hold onto its mud, store its water, and though most of the trails are dry now there are still those spots of gooey muck, mostly in the jungle, along the slough. Elsewhere the mustard has grown in thick; it hides the trails, grabs at handlebars, threatens to slow your passing, bury you beneath its yellow petals, maybe yank you off the trail and into that... tree!

jungle passage, Bonelli Park

bird in the bayou, Bonelli Park

flooded crossing, Bonelli Park

trail goes in, but does it come out? Bonelli Park

gauging station, Bonelli Park

lake view, Bonelli Park

red head and thistle, Bonelli Park

apparition, Bonelli Park

Red winged blackbird, Bonelli Park