'Tur-a-ling' goes the Red-winged Blackbird, 'tur-a-ling'

I write these words on the eve of Groundhog Day, the vernal milestone that marks the mid-point between the first days of winter and spring.

- PETE DUNNE

We winter-weary humans thirst for natural markers that mark the advance toward spring. For my money, the first day of spring arrives the day male Red-winged Blackbirds unfurl their crimson epaulets, the banners of spring.

Hidden beneath concealing wing coverts outside the breeding season, when those first warm winds of the coming season stir cattail marshes, they fan the ember colored epaulets that kindle ardor in male Red-wingeds and signal a new breeding season. One day the marshes are quiescent as winter, then suddenly every prominent perch hosts a hormonally fueled bull Red-winged, flying their colors and gurgling the magic incantation that picks winter's lock: "Tur-a-ling...tur-a-ling." To rival males "Tur-a-ling" translates: "Listen, Bub, the biggest baddest blackbird on the block claims this corner of marsh. Want to make something of it?"

Of course such a challenge cannot go unanswered. It's every male's duty to secure the best and largest territory. A successful nesting season depends upon it. Up and down the cattails, rival males hitch themselves loft, display their battle flags and define their territory.