A flash of orange streaks across the yard. A fleeting glimpse, combined with a clear whistled song from high in the cottonwoods means only one thing: an oriole is here. The males sing to establish and defend their breeding territory and I can only hope that this will be it. Maybe his mate is already weaving a pendulous nest up there, hidden by foliage. Wouldn’t that be a treat? Tips and Techniques– Sometimes drawings come effortlessly. Many times they don’t. And sometimes it’s best to start over. Such was the case with… Read More