Even the birds sing in a different vernacular . . .

Something quite magical about Toronto is that it is cut through with ravines, carved when the glaciers melted.  It is amazing to wander or cycle along a creek, steep banks to either side, almost without awareness of human habitation; just cool greenness.

Cycling home through Taylor Creek last week, I reached a marshy, open section of the ravine, cattails rimed with the gold of evening. I was stopped in my tracks by the choral konk-a-ree calls and scarlet flashes of the Red-winged Blackbirds. Definitely a foreign language!

Red-winged Blackbird

Photograph of Red-winged Blackbird by Alan And Elaine Wilson

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