The fields are alive with the sounds of ...

As the dogs and I were taking their after lunch walk along the road today, we got yelled at. No, not by an irate motorist but by a pair of sandhill cranes walking through the neighbor’s hayfield across the road. Apparently we were getting too close for the crane’s comfort so we slowed down and gave them some time to increase the distance separating us. The dogs then finished their business, we turned around and headed back toward the house, and the cranes continued whatever business they were on without further comment.

neighborhood field, sandhill cranes

Photo by J. Harrington

Living where we do, cranes are frequently seen in the neighborhood. We’ve not yet, to our knowledge, had them visit our property. Although that would be nice, and we’re mildly jealous that the neighbors properties are more appealing to cranes than ours have been, seeing cranes up close fairly regularly is a wonderful enrichment to our day-to-day activities.

Canada goose/gander with goslings

Photo by J. Harrington

Before the county “improved” the Hwy 36 bridge over the Sunrise River, and the adjoining roadway, we used to be able to watch for geese and goslings near the bridge at this time of year. An extended guard rail cut off the small piece of field between the road and the marshes, so the geese have gone elsewhere to nest and we no longer get to enjoy watching goslings grow. On the other hand, partially grown goslings are no long as likely to be struck by a passing vehicle doing 55 mph or so. Better for the geese if not for would-be naturalists.

The Sandhills

By Linda Hogan

The language of cranes

we once were told

is the wind. The wind

is their method,

their current, the translated story

of life they write across the sky.

Millions of years

they have blown here

on ancestral longing,

their wings of wide arrival,

necks long, legs stretched out

above strands of earth

where they arrive

with the shine of water,

stories, interminable

language of exchanges

descended from the sky

and then they stand,

earth made only of crane

from bank to bank of the river

as far as you can see

the ancient story made new.

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