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.

Photos of the Week – February 25, 2026

We had a few days of real winter this last week, including a little snow and some freezing temperatures. As a result, I had a few chances to go out and photograph snow, ice, and frost. It was great! Now, the temperatures are back to a spring-like feel and it looks like it’ll be that way for a while.

Who do I complain to about the winter temperatures being too warm? I don’t feel like I’ll get a lot of empathy from most people around me.

Well, anyway, here are some photos of actual gosh-darned winter conditions, in case you’re interested.

Blue grama and snow. Gjerloff Prairie – Prairie Plains Resource Institute.

I had a nice morning at the little reservoir north of town. I didn’t come away with a ton of photos I liked, but I enjoyed being out. There was a trumpeter swan on the water, which isn’t something I see everyday, especially around here.

I also followed a little pack of tree sparrows around and managed to get a couple photos, though I had to significantly crop them to make them look ok. Tree sparrows don’t usually let me get very close. Apart from that, my photography was limited largely because the ice wasn’t thick enough to walk on so I could only work along the edges of the lake and stream.

Ice bubbles!
Tree sparrow in a tree
Ice and plant stems

A day after I was at the reservoir, I headed to my favorite frozen wetland at the Platte River Prairies. The ice was (mostly) thick enough to walk on, as long as I took it slowly and backed up when I heard cracking sounds. Then, of course, if there was something I really wanted to get close to, I’d approach again, but on my belly, with my weight spread out as much as possible. (As always, I’ll remind you that the water at my favorite frozen wetland is only a foot or so deep, so my life was not in serious danger.)

Sunrise over the frozen wetland
Accumulated snow and frost around the base of cattails
A frozen bug and frost

As you can see from the above three photos, the ice wasn’t clear enough to produce a lot of ice bubble photos, which was a disappointment, but there was some decent frost to photograph. There were also some fun mysteries to ponder, including where the bug (above) came from and why/how it ended up on the top of the ice. I don’t need to know the answer – it’s just fun to imagine scenarios.

Frost between the frozen wetland surface and a plant stem

I was about ready to leave when I came across the feathers. Some good-sized bird (duck?) had met its demise and had been picked apart by a predator, leaving feathers scattered all over the ice. The combination of feathers and frost is a good one for photography, so I stayed an extra half hour and had fun with various compositions. This was one of those places where the ice was a little iffy, so all these were photographed from the prone position.

A bunch of feathers strewn across the ice
Frosty feather
A second perspective on the same frosty feather
Another frosty feather
Another frosty feather
Another frosty feather
Another frosty feather
Another frosty feather
Another frosty feather

Well, now it’s warm out again. Some people would call it pleasant, and I’d agree with that if it was April. For now, it makes me grumpy. A little precipitation would make me feel better, even if it’s rain instead of snow. At this point, I’d be glad for anything wet falling out of the sky.

Well, not ANYTHING. I wouldn’t want soggy socks, for example, dropping on my head. Or sodden rolls of toilet paper.

Anyway, I want winter. Please? Just for a few more weeks.