The Day the Red-wings Returned

By mid-February on my morning walks my eyes are attuned in the anticipation of a fleeting view of a tiny red dot on a darting black bird nearly hidden in the thickets of dried phragmites. Usually I hear him before I see him. One of the first refreshing signs of Spring, it brightens my day and lightens my step. Of late, their numbers have dwindled precipitously, but my hope is enlivened each year when I see a healthy active pair. This watercolor was painted outside on one of these mornings.