I felt slighted in some way. After all, the Red-Winged Blackbird was a “special bird,” especially to someone like me who grew up in the Meadowlands. It’s one of the first birds back to the marshlands of New Jersey in the spring. That was very important to us kids. Beginning in February, we would watch closely from the bus windows on the way to school to see who could spot the first male Red-Wing clinging to the Phragmites, displaying his beautiful yellow and red epaulets.

We didn’t have to announce to everyone to begin the search. It was understood. It was just one of those things you did. A silent sigh of relief would come upon us once the birds made their first spring appearance to the marsh. We knew that no matter how bad the winter was and no matter what was going on in school or the world around us, spring was not far behind, and that meant things in one way or another would get better. The Red-Wings were back! If nothing else, we could depend on that.

The Red-winged Blackbird was our connection to nature, that special creature that many of us have that helps to keep us grounded. Something that is always there to remind us that nature is there, waiting for us to notice and appreciate it if we just take the time to look.

If there was ever a kind of uniform, a logo that you were to wear on your jersey growing up in the Meadowlands, it would have been the Red-winged Blackbird. It wanted you to see it. It shouted from the highest perch, “I am here, look at me!”

I grew up in a time when it seemed like none of the Meadowlands that we loved and played in would be left for anyone to enjoy. Many of our ponds and fields were being filled in and plowed over on what felt like a daily basis. We worried about the Red-Wing. Would we continue to see them? Would there still be a place where we could watch for their return in spring? The Meadowlands survived and so did our favorite bird.
 
Years later, I continued the tradition of looking for the first Red-Winged Blackbird of Spring when driving my two boys to school. “There’s one! Right there!” they would yell out from the back seat of the car. Sure enough, there it was. All things were right in the world, at least for today. The Red-winged Blackbird was there, we could depend on that.

Now I’m fortunate enough to help lead field trips to many places in the Meadowlands, and like the Meadowlands, the Red-Winged Blackbird is very much alive. They greet everyone from the highest perch on each walk that we do saying, “I am still here. Look at me.”

I try to make sure everyone appreciates this wonderful bird. I owe it a least that much. After all, it’s not just a Red-Winged Blackbird; it is “Our Red-Winged Blackbird.” We can all depend on that.