Early spring on the Platte River is crane season. Every one of the half million or so birds in the mid-continent population of sandhill cranes spends a few weeks along Central Platte River each spring. They roost overnight on the river and spend their days feeding in nearby cornfields, grasslands, and wetlands. As we go about our outdoor work, there is a constant soundtrack of crane song in the background. It could be worse.
Those who know me best understand that while I occasionally photograph wildlife, I’m really more about photographing little things like bugs and flowers. I have quite a few photographs of sandhill cranes, but I get as much or more enjoyment out of photographing the small signs those cranes leave behind. Plenty of great photographers, starting and ending with Mike Forsberg, spend lots of time each spring making great images of the birds themselves. I don’t really feel compelled to compete with them. Today, I present a photo essay on sandhill cranes that features exactly zero photographs of sandhill cranes.