GREAT CRANE GATHERINGS

      Generally, from late February to early April, up to a few hundred thousand sandhill cranes gather on the mud flats and shallows of the Platte River in Audubon's Rowe Sanctuary in southcentral Nebraska.  I see them, often upclose, through a live camera on the sanctuary, which operates 24/7, and our home computer screen .     

     Through the live camera at night, I see those four-foot cranes by the thousands standing together on the flats and in the shallows, huddled together and sleeping.  Most of them have their beak and head tucked under a wing, but some are awake with heads up when I can see outdoor lights reflecting from their open eyes.  And I can hear the short, gutterel trills of some of the awake cranes.

     At first light, the cranes become restless, and vocal.  Now I can see that many ribbon-like flats and shallows are wall to wall sandhills, all standing and ready for the day.  Before sunrise, a few cranes take flight to commute to feed on corn kernels on  the ground in harvested corn fields on the prairie near the Platte.  Soon little groups and bigger flocks take wing, wave after wave after wave of them, with all birds clamoring loudly, and flying out in those flocks to feeding fields.  The sky is soon filled with tens of thousands of cranes, silhouetted darkly against the sky, and emitting a wild din of croaking voices.  But many cranes are still on the Platte's flats and shallows, waiting their turn to take flight to the fields.  And they soon get their turn to do so.

     Before sunset, each evening, sandhill cranes start returning to the Platte in Rowe Sanctuary where they will spend the night, each night, until they migrate farther north to nesting territories.  At first, I see dark scribbles in the distant sky over the prairie.  But those scribbles rapidly approach the river in Rowe, with other dark lines behind them, coming fast, wave after wave.  Upon reaching the Platte, each flock of cranes swirls over the river, and each bird sets its wings and parachutes elegantly and gracefully into the wind, for flight control, down to the water that beautifully reflects the ruddy sky, and the flats.

     Soon, several groups of sandhills approach the river from all directions, with, seemingly, every crane calling our raucously.  Each flock circles the river, then, majestically, cascades to it, each bird croaking all the while.  

     As the sunset fades in the western sky, the Platte's mud flats and shallows are quickly filling, again wall to wall, with beautifully silhouetted cranes who will spend the night there.  But, still, several waves and flocks of elegant, noisy sandhills keep coming, from all directions, toward the Platte where they will settle for the night.  

     Now watching those incoming, stately cranes gets more thrilling and inspiring.  Their great flocks are magnificent to see.  As each evening progresses toward dark, flock after flock after flock of handsome cranes continues coming to the Platte and settling on the flats and shallows, quickly filling many of them with their vast numbers.  And still more and more groups of those stately birds slide across the darkening sky, one after another and another, sometimes as far back as I can see.  Now those incoming birds are so overwhelming on the river and in the sky that one can barely see it all.  The sight of all those croaking cranes is exciting, and almost unbelievable! What a magnificent, inspiring sight!

     Finally, each evening, in almost total darkness, a few stragglers bring up the rear of all those wonderful, inspiring flocks of cranes landing on the Platte.  Now, once again, one can see the cranes standing tall on flats and in shallows, their glowing eyes again reflecting outdoor lights.  Soon most of the birds will be asleep, resting for another busy day of flying and feeding on the prairie.

     

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