Three sandhill cranes stand tall.
When I approach cranes, they usually sidle away in silence, as if someone had passed gas. These, though, stand their ground. Snacking, squawking, traveling slowly.
We’d heard their rusty call as we walked the Los Poblanos Open Space paths, but couldn’t see them. We figured they were high in the pre-storm atmosphere: cloud-cranes.
As we walk away, a bleat. We wheel. Five more cranes fly over, bank with wings extended for landing. Prehistoric frisbees.
More here than we saw 90 miles south, last week. A tractor traces neat rows on the field’s edge. The crops’ remnants will feed the cranes next year.
One June night we drove a green back road in Wisconsin. Something made me turn my head toward a field.
Dozens of sandhill cranes, 1,300 miles from where I’d seen them a few months before.
Hike length: 2 miles
Difficulty: easiest
Trail traffic: moderate
Wildlife spotted: sandhill cranes, geese, crows
Woman Seeks Elevation 