At the pond, the Red-winged Blackbirds are noisier and more jittery than last week, suggesting an active nest within the Spirea. The female flew at me twice and the male took up a sentry position high above on a snag. He wasn’t particularly useful -- all show, no action.
The grebe calls again, this time unseen within the cat-tails. A teen-aged girl stops and stares, wondering what is making this jungle call. “It’s a Pied-billed Grebe,” I said, which meant nothing. “It looks kind of like a little brown chicken.” Strange man explains strange noise, attributes it to strange bird.
“Oh. Thank you for that information,” she said.
Then the strangest of all. Four Grade 8 boys coming down the trail, belting out a screechy version of Video Killed the Radio Star (The Buggles, Age of Plastic, 1979 -- I looked it up). They had the whole song down pat. Obviously a favourite; one of them must have found it in his parents’ record collection.