Venus and a thumbnail moon beamed from the eastern sky as I left Denver early this morning and began a full day journey to Missouri; the first glow of dawn spread across the horizon, lighting a shelf of clouds far to the east. I caught up with those clouds near Flagler and would soon encounter one of nature's annual spectacles, the autumn migration of sandhill cranes.
The first flock crossed I-70 near Goodland and, over the next 60 miles, I observed many others. Nearing Oakley, I saw an especially large flock moving down from the north and I left the highway to observe the birds more closely and, more importantly, to listen to their distinctive calls as they circled southward on a northwest wind; as with the call of snow geese, the rattling bugle of sandhill cranes never fails to stir my soul.
Having summered and raised their young on tundra, marshy grasslands and open woodlands of Canada, these sandhills were headed for wintering areas in New Mexico, West Texas and Mexico; it was my good fortune to cross their path on this bright October morning. Come spring, they will retrace their route to Canada but will stop to rest and feed along the Platte River in Nebraska, a major staging area for North American cranes and an annual destination for naturalists from across the globe.
