I'm going to see
the sandhill cranes
today.
Hiking shoes on.
Leave home
while the world
is black.
Drive 2 1/2 hours
in country road fog.
Dozens of us
freeze fingers
waiting...
waiting...
....waiting.
We can hear
in the west
the French R trill
of thousands of birds
hiding in the fog.
Turn to the East
to watch
the cold sun rise.
Cameras ready.
Scopes at hand.
I like his hat.
The ghost fog
begins
to dissapate.
Can you see them?
A few great birds
lift from the crowd...
Rising
on prehistoric wings...
...to the thrill
of the watchers...
Some intent
on capture...
...others
lower the camera
in awe.
Aren't they wonderful?
Patience...
as the birds
and fog
slowly
lift.
Color
begins
to find the day
Birds mill about..
teasing us.
- Come closer, we beg.
- Incoming! someone shouts.
We spin cameras
to the west.
Craning back
till we almost
fall backwards
to catch...
...the one shot.
The birds are bubbling now...
...ready to fly away
to corn fields.
...to gather strength
for the long flight
to Mexico.
And the watchers now
wander back
through the woods...
imagining...
...Flight.
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ReplyDeleteMy house is on the cranes' flight path and they fly over in the spring and fall. You can hear their trilling call before you can see them. I love watching them fly overhead.
ReplyDeleteWe've had them fly over our land on 125W. They'll sound like they're right next to you, but they'll be way high up in the air over your head.
ReplyDelete