I want to thank everyone who submitted questions in response to a post from last month requesting them. I think I’ve responded to everyone, though not always with a robust or satisfactory answer. As I frequently tell people, I’m far from an expert on all things prairie (and am absolutely not the insect identification expert people often think I am). In fact, as many of the other ‘more mature in age’ readers will empathize with, my expertise seems to diminish each year as I become increasingly aware of how complex the world truly is.

Anyway, if you haven’t already, I encourage you to scan through the questions and answers in the comments section of that post. It was fascinating to see the themes that emerged from the questions this time around. There were a few soils/nutrients questions I gave poor answers to, and the always-expected-and-welcomed question about the differences between bison and cattle. Apart from those, however, it was fun to see how many people are trying to convert their lawn to prairie or are working on similar, but larger, restoration/conversion projects. It’s been really inspiring to see the energy around those topics continue to grow over the years.

Today’s post is about sandhill cranes and the annual spring migration and major staging event along the Central Platte River in Nebraska. Seeing hundreds of thousands of cranes each spring is a pretty sweet employment benefit here at our Platte River Prairies. Sandhill crane calls are our soundtrack of spring, and multitudes of gray birds form a joyful background to our daily work. It’s not a bad gig.

I’m no wildlife photographer, as I’ve stated many times. I don’t have either the equipment or patience to do what real wildlife photographers do, so I don’t try to compete in that arena. Most of my photography centers on the little organisms that make up the biological diversity of prairies and that I find endlessly fascinating. I can photograph those with my cheap cameras and a simple macro lens, which both saves me money and gives me the chance to continually discover, capture images of, and learn about new species.

However, I do carry my camera with me most places, and that includes going into viewing blinds along the Platte River, where we take our members and supporters out to see cranes up close. As a result, I end up getting a few photos each year – and, more recently, a little video footage.

I’ve had a couple nice viewing experiences this year and I took a few photos and videos that I thought I’d share today for those of you who haven’t gotten to see this phenomenon for yourselves. If you’re not familiar with the broad story of cranes and the Platte River, you can read a quick summary of the annual phenomenon here. You might also be interested in a recent blog post on The Nature Conservancy’s Cool Green Science blog that talks about an observation I made a few years ago of cranes staining their gray feathers rusty brown.

On a recent evening viewing blind trip, we had a couple Canada geese land by themselves quite a ways upriver of where sandhill cranes were starting to gather. I liked the way the geese were silhouetted against the river, which was reflecting post-sunset color. I kept my eye on those same two birds as their temporary solitude became overrun with noisy neighbors over the next half hour or so.

Other than watching those geese, I took a few other photos of crane silhouettes, but ended up focusing more on the people watching the birds. I’ve had the viewing blind experience so many times now that most of my enjoyment comes from watching people having their first opportunity.

Given the choice, I prefer visiting our viewing blinds in the morning rather than in the evening. Both are worthwhile, but different. In the evening, we watch birds descend from the sky in large noisy groups and land. That’s terrific, but by the time they arrive, there’s usually not a lot of light left to watch them interact with each other. In the mornings, we sneak in while it’s still dark and get to watch the cranes wake up and prepare for their day. Their activity levels increase as the sun rises, leading – usually – to their departure to go feed all day in grasslands or corn fields.

I love watching cranes in those early morning hours. At first, they’re pretty calm, and start eating, drinking, and exploring around them as the day slowly brightens. Later, there’s more nervous energy in the crowd that seems driven partly by sexual tension – lots of crane pairs ‘dancing’ with each other in leaping displays that sometimes includes throwing of sticks or other objects. They also jump and posture in apparent attempts to shoo neighbors away from their mates. (“Hey, back off sister, this one’s MINE!”).

As some birds start leaving the river, all the others start bouncing around even more. A perpetual question among their human viewers is whether the same groups of birds leave the river together each day. In other words, when 15 or 20 birds take off in the morning, are those the same 15 or 20 birds that hung out the previous day? Or are the daily cliques of birds determined more randomly, based on who decides to lift off just because the cranes next to them are leaving? There are definitely family groups – pairs, with or without a juvenile – but beyond that, we really don’t know much about how they decide who to hang out with each day. They all look alike, after all (at least to us).

Here are three videos I made during a morning visit to the river a couple weeks ago that will give you a feel for the morning viewing blind experience. (If the videos aren’t working and you’re reading this in your email, click on the title of the post at the top of the email to open it online.)

Our annual crane season should extend for another few weeks, though I expect we’ll see a lot of them starting to head north as soon as we get some sunny days and south winds. (They also pass through as they head south in the fall, but typically in relatively small groups that don’t stop by for long.) It’s nice to see the cranes each year, but it’s also fun to see them spiral upward into the air, riding thermals higher and higher until they finally catch a tailwind toward their breeding grounds. We’ll enjoy the spring soundtrack for as it lasts this year, knowing the cranes will be back again next year.

If you’re interested in making the trip to the Central Platte River to see the annual spring staging event of sandhill cranes, you’ve got lots of options. It’s easy to just drive county roads near the river, especially between the cities of Grand Island and Kearney. The cranes are all over the place in the field, where you can observe them from your car. (Please don’t drive onto private property – stay on the road and in your car where you won’t bother either the birds or our human neighbors.)

The best experience, though, is to get into a viewing blind. If you’re a Nebraska member of The Nature Conservancy, you should get an email, postcard, or other communication each year, inviting you to free opportunities to watch cranes from our viewing blinds. If you’re not (and why aren’t you?), there other terrific options, including guided tours offered by our conservation friends at National Audubon Society’s Rowe Sanctuary and the Crane Trust. Our blinds are used only for the limited number of trips we take with our members and supporters, but those other two organizations cater very well to the general public. Please check them out!