Every year, around half a million sandhill cranes stop for a couple of weeks at the Platte River in south-central Nebraska, along their annual migration from the Gulf to Canada and Alaska. These large and extremely ancient birds roost together by the tens of thousands from around sunset to around sunrise in the sandy braided channel of the river. Their primordial, trumpeting cries travel for miles across the countryside, an amazing and almost overwhelming experience when in the midst of thousands, and an auditory trip back into a time millions of years before humans set up blinds to watch and photograph them. Yet they depend on our byproducts for their sustenance, specifically the corn left over from fall harvest and strewn all about hundreds of thousands of acres of farm fields in and near the river valley. The cranes fatten on this forage, fueling the remainder of their trek to subarctic summer spawning grounds.
Elke and I each had wanted to witness the spectacle for years, and finally got a chance. We had a couple of extra days off before my business trip to Lincoln in March, during the time the cranes set up camp in the river. Grateful for the opportunity, we witnessed one of the most bountiful wildlife spectacles outside the African Sernegeti. We appreciate the fine folks of the Rowe and Crane Meadows sanctuaries, who somehow had openings in their typically advanced-reserved blinds on separate days, and who accommodated us on short notice for our shoots.
I hope you enjoy the imagery, and if the chance to visit the sandhill crane gathering presents itself, do it. The sights and sounds will last for a lifetime.
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