You always hear them before you see them so let's start with this:
My great-grandparents lived in a tiny log home a few minutes outside of the town I grew up in. The house was charismatic in many ways but the front porch was memorable for me because of all the feral barn cats sneaking around, looking for food scraps. Sitting in the threshold of the door to the kitchen was a rickety, creaky red screen door. I can tell you exactly how it sounded to open because the song of the Yellow-headed Blackbird is nearly identical.
Here's to one of my Colorado favorites, the raspy, unoiled Yellow-headed Blackbird (Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus).