Photos of the Week – March 22, 2026

I’m sorry not to have posted much lately. It’s not you, it’s me. Well, to be fair, it’s also the roughly 1 million sandhill cranes that come through the Platte River each spring and all the people who come to watch them.

If you’ve never visited the Central Platte River in March, it’s hard to describe what you’re missing. Eighty five percent of the world’s sandhill cranes pour into a fairly narrow reach of the Platte and each bird spends a few weeks or more eating as much as they can. They’re building fat and energy before continuing north to their breeding grounds where they’ll likely be setting up nests in a frozen environment without a lot of available food. While on the Platte, they spend their nights on the river and their days split between corn fields and grasslands, mostly eating corn and various invertebrates.

You can see the cranes by just driving back roads in the area, but the best experience comes from watching them come to the river at night or leave the river in the morning. Check out the websites of our good conservation partners – National Audubon Society’s Rowe Sanctuary and the Crane Trust – to learn more about how to get into a viewing blind along the river bank. If you’re a member of The Nature Conservancy, we also offer a limited number of crane blind tours each spring as a thank you for your support. You can call our Omaha office in January or early February to learn more.

Sandhill cranes coming to the river on a cloudy night near sunset.

I’ve gone out to the blinds with several groups of guests this year and have given presentations to even more groups about this amazing ecological phenomenon. I’ve managed to get a few photos of cranes during a couple of those river bank visits and am sharing some here, hoping to encourage you to come the birds for yourself.

Cranes silhouetted against the cloudy sky after sunset.
Post-sunset viewing from one of our blinds as the cranes settle in for the night.
More silhouettes against the dark cloudy sky.
It’s always fun when the cranes come in on a night with a terrific sunset.
The same sunset and cranes as above.

Because the birds decide when and where to roost for the night based on a lot of different factors, we never know for sure what kind of show we’ll get to see from the viewing blind. About a week ago, we watched them crowd against the north bank to escape blisteringly-cold blasts of wind. One a particularly cold morning, some cranes were lying on their bellies to reduce how much of their body was exposed to the cold.

A cold morning, with several cranes on their bellies to (we assume) help keep warm.

Just a few days later, the cranes were already at the river when we arrived in the evening because they’d been hanging around the water most of the day as a way to mitigate the nearly 100 degree (F) heat.

Sometimes, we see cranes arrive at the roost well before sunset, but often they start arriving as the sun goes down and the majority pour in just before it’s too dark to see them. And, sometimes, they decide to roost in a part of the river that doesn’t include our viewing blinds.

The following four photos from late last week show a time progression over about 20 minutes as the sun dipped below the horizon and cranes poured into the river. This was one of the very warm nights when there were quite a few cranes in place when we showed up, but lots more came in as the night progressed.

Just before the sun hit the horizon.
Just after the sun dropped below the horizon.
All the good standing spots are starting to fill up.
And yet, cranes just keep dropping in.

So, that’s what’s happening around here – along with lots more. I will try to get some more blog posts out soon.

In the meantime, I hope you’re enjoying the spring wherever you are, except for those of you in the southern hemisphere who are in the midst of autumn. I hope you’re enjoying the autumn.

Wherever you are, if you get the chance to come see the cranes on the Platte River, I think you’ll find the experience worthwhile.

Square Meter Plot in Late Winter

On Tuesday, a storm moved through much of Nebraska and surrounding states, bringing very strong winds (gusts to 50-70 mph) and varying amounts of rain and snow. Schools were shut down, including here in Aurora, and most people just stayed inside.

HOWEVER. Right before the storm there was a beautiful, calm, foggy morning and I made a quick trip to my square meter plot to say hi before the winds hit. You might think there’d be nothing happening in the prairie on a foggy early March morning. Well, there wasn’t a ton of activity, but there was plenty to see, and I spent about 40 minutes trying to see it all.

Here’s what the plot looked like on the morning of March 4, right before the wind started really cooking.

When I arrived, I chased off a couple sparrows/ They were probably tree sparrows, but I didn’t get a good look at them. I didn’t add them to my species list for the project because A) I didn’t identify them, B) I didn’t photograph them, and C) I already have photos of tracks in the snow that are likely tree sparrow tracks. Those sparrows, and maybe other animals, though, have really been working over the sunflowers in the plot.

Most of the heads of those sunflowers have been torn apart as various critters have scoured them for any remaining seeds. In addition, as you can see in the above photo, most of the sunflower stems have been knocked down – I assume from a combination of snow, wind, and perching birds.

Maximilian sunflower heads and fog.
A closer view, showing what’s left of some of the heads.
An even closer view of a Maximilian sunflower seed head

Birds aren’t the only thing feeding on sunflower seed heads, though. There were small exit holes in several of the sunflower heads within the plot. I photographed them and then sent a photo to my friend M.J. Paulsen at the University of Nebraska. As he usually does, he responded quickly with helpful information.

M.J. said there are three different moth species whose larvae can make exit holes in sunflower heads. Based on the size of the hold and the look of the sunflower, though, his best guess was that these were made by the sunflower bud moth (Suleima helianthana). (I did add that species to my list because even if it’s one of the other two, it would still be a new addition.)

A close-up of an exit hole in a Maximilian sunflower head made by a moth caterpillar.

In addition to appreciating the little holes in sunflower heads, I also had fun just exercising my camera and brain. It’s been a relatively slow winter for photography. There hasn’t been a lot of frost or snow, which both draw me out into the field. I’ve also been busy with other things. Either way, it was really nice to switch on my photographer/explorer brain for a while.

The remaining photos are examples of me just looking for patterns, light, and beauty – which has been the best part of this whole square meter project, anyway. As I keep telling people, the species list is fun, but the real joy comes from making myself focus closely on one little area and see things I wouldn’t otherwise notice. I highly recommend it.

Big bluestem stems
Butterfly milkweed leaves
Big bluestem leaf