Shindig at Shenandoah Marsh

Spring grows ever closer, in the wetlands below my house, which I call Shenandoah Marsh. The marsh has been covered with ice, until last Sunday, when about half of it melted. By Monday the marsh was entirely ice free with open water. The Red-winged Blackbirds have increased in numbers, several fold, in just a week, and are creating quite a ruckus, chattering back and forth, making a high pitched sound, “oak-a-lee, oak-a-lee”, then a series of “chek” sounds, like a clucking sound in some ways.

Shenandoah Marsh is a small wetland, about an acre in overall size, but it is full of life. The primary vegetation is the cattail, a tall plant that has strap like leaves 3 to 6 feet long, with a long stem around 8 feet tall, topped by a dense mass of minute brown flowers. The cattail is a very common plant of the wetlands of the inter-mountain west of the United States. The roots and lower stem can be eaten and are full of starch, a veritable pantry of the outdoors. The cigar shaped flower head on top of the stalk (it looks like a cats tail), once dried, can be broken up and makes good insulation or bedding. Like goose down. Bed and breakfast. All you need is a lawn chair and a beer.

I walked down to the marsh on Monday and was a bit surprised to see that the water was open, with no ice, and the smell of rotting marsh, greeted me. A least of couple of dozen male birds were darting about and making lots of noise. The dead cattails from last year lay mostly crushed and broken, but a few stalks were still erect, with their brownish cigars, but there didn't appear to be any new growth. No life yet except for the birds. As I approached, a male Red-wing, flew to a shrub and roosted 5 feet over my head, scolding me with his raspy alarm call “zeer, zeer, zeer”, casting lightning bolt looks in my direction, letting me know I was an invader. Trespasser. Three smaller brownish birds darted quickly into the thicket of cattails, at my approach. They were probably the females that one of the males had gathered into his harem. The territorial males will gather up to 15 females, which he will rigorously defend, all for naught, because up to 50% of the young in his herd are fathered by other males.

I spotted a male mallard duck, perched on a mound of dead cattails and a female mallard soon appeared from a narrow water opening, a sheltered nook, and both swam out into the pond. The pair was looking for a nesting spot. The water was as smooth as glass and both ducks had identical twins, on the smooth liquid. The male looked grand in his green hood and the female a rather drab brown. Perfect camouflage for sitting on a clutch of eggs or protecting newly hatched ducklings.

The marsh is about 500 feet from my house and one of the things I enjoy in the spring, is opening a bedroom window and hearing the symphony, the song, of Red-wings, going about their rituals and rites or just singing for the pure joy of it.