Albuquerque lies along one of the migratory paths of the Sandhills. It was one of the great joys of my time there to see the cranes coming through.
They fly in formation, high up, on their approaches and departures. They talk among themselves as they fly. You can be out in your yard on a morning in March or October and you will hear them, a distant chorus of calls and responses at the edge of what you can hear. You'll look up, and at the very end of what you can see, high in the sky, you'll see them passing over, flying in their long V-shaped formations, sometimes circling as they scope out what spot in the woods and fields down by the river they are going to land in. They look like a fluttering spray of salt and pepper against the clear blue skies of La Tierra Encantada.
I'm glad to learn they are teaching the colt to fly. I thought Dad was yelling at the babby to get away from him. And then Dad turned to Mom and said "how can I be sure he's mine?" before flying away. Typical soap opera plot, right? Thanks for the clip, Martini and you have a great weekend too.
I grew up in Northwest Colorado in a place where they would migrate. It was always noted when the sandhill cranes essentially came back to town. Lovely post.
Sandhill crane parents... I recall both being taught to ride a bicycle and teaching the skill... I empathize with 'em...
They are majestic birds
Albuquerque lies along one of the migratory paths of the Sandhills. It was one of the great joys of my time there to see the cranes coming through.
They fly in formation, high up, on their approaches and departures. They talk among themselves as they fly. You can be out in your yard on a morning in March or October and you will hear them, a distant chorus of calls and responses at the edge of what you can hear. You'll look up, and at the very end of what you can see, high in the sky, you'll see them passing over, flying in their long V-shaped formations, sometimes circling as they scope out what spot in the woods and fields down by the river they are going to land in. They look like a fluttering spray of salt and pepper against the clear blue skies of La Tierra Encantada.
I'm glad to learn they are teaching the colt to fly. I thought Dad was yelling at the babby to get away from him. And then Dad turned to Mom and said "how can I be sure he's mine?" before flying away. Typical soap opera plot, right? Thanks for the clip, Martini and you have a great weekend too.
I grew up in Northwest Colorado in a place where they would migrate. It was always noted when the sandhill cranes essentially came back to town. Lovely post.
Ta, Martini. Colts? Okay, colts.
I remember a Postcard from Nebraska on CBS Sunday Morning a zillion years ago about sandhill cranes.