The cranes and the moon and everything

For prehistoric-looking creatures, cranes move really fast.

I’m standing in Los Poblanos Fields, my camera trained on a shimmering, circling flock of blackbirds.

Then there’s that rusty-hinge creak and a rush of wind. The cranes, the birds I’m here to see, have winged past me and gone.

There are more, tall gray sentries in the green field beyond. I know just where I need to be to have a chance of being under their flight path to the river.

When we lived nearby, I was out here at sunset night after night, photographing the cranes.

I position myself near a flock. My shadow shimmers long in front of me. The cranes lift off, but my camera’s autofocus leaves me behind. About 50 yards away, a woman with a lens the length of an arm snaps off dozens of staccato frames.

The field emptied, the moon rises over the mountains. Each time I blink, a few more inches of moon appear. I walk toward the east end of the field to get a better shot, but like the cranes, the moon eludes me, tiny in my viewfinder.

The mountains slide from watermelon to lavender to blue.

A large group of people walks slowly in front of me, a six-decade age range among them.

Context clues. Thanksgiving. Family. My family has done that same slow walk here on this holiday. Now this family is together, and mine is apart.

Now the cranes are at the river, the ducks quiet in the cool green grass, the moon high and icy.

Now airplane contrails shimmer over the mesa.

Night is falling, and I’m still searching.

Hike length: 1.3 miles

Difficulty: easiest

Wildlife spotted: cranes, ducks, geese, blackbirds, robins

Trail traffic: light-moderate