Notes to Self. More on Sandhill Cranes

I am currently in the midst of a "crane phase" and continue to explore an interesting field that a pair of Sandhill Cranes has claimed as their territory.

Tomorrow we’re expecting snow and rain.

Sandhill cranes will not hide in thick bushes or under the trees during rain or snow. Because they rely on their eyesight to spot predators like coyotes or foxes, they prefer to stay in open wetlands or shallow ponds.

Even in snow, they typically spend the night standing in shallow water facing into the wind to keep their feathers smooth and tucking their heads into their back feathers to conserve heat.

Generally, life is good.

Notes to Self. Beyond the Blackbird Pond

Leaving behind the pond with the curious name "Blackbird Pond", I went to explore this area further and soon the trail lead me to a small winding river where to my surprise I saw a pair of Sandhill Cranes.

Watching them, I got the sense that this wasn't a chance encounter; they moved with the quiet confidence of owners surveying their own territory. 

Now, I can’t help but wonder if they’ll remain as the seasons shift—whether they will still claim this stretch of water once the summer heat takes hold and the river begins to run thin.

Generally, life is good.

 

During Sunrise

 

While some corners of Bear River prepare for a new chapter and a new route, local residents - the Sandhill Cranes - remain as graceful as ever. 

It might be some time before the landscape settles, but I have a feeling these magnificent birds will be the first to call the new territory home.

Generally, life is good.

Notes to Self. Blackbird Pond

They call it Blackbird Pond, a name that sparks the imagination until you actually see the place. It’s a bit of a gloomy little puddle, honestly—the sort of water that looks like it might hold onto your boot and never let go.

After wandering for a mile and a half, I came to this pond feeling even more lost than when I started out. It was tiny, lonely, and gloomy. But out here, where the land is always thirsty, any patch of water is a gift.

The welcoming residents of the pond were: a turtle who perched on a log, two Canada geese, and a solitary Black-crowned  Night heron which I accidentally startled without noticing it. 

Long ago, I read that if you visit the same place consistently, it will inevitably begin to reveal its secrets to you, little by little. 

I’ll keep coming back, hoping that one day this dark little mirror will crack open and show me something I never saw coming.

Generally, life is good.