I just got back from Lincoln, NE for the world's most unique bachelorette party: one where the bride-to-be and her nearest and dearest lady friends watch the sandhill crane migration on the Platte River. After a 5 a.m. wake-up call (totally painful after a night of wine in the Ramada hot tub), we got all bundled up and made our way to a bird blind at the Rowe Sanctuary. Binoculars and cameras in hand, we waited in the dark, listening to the pigeon-crossed-with-seagull call of the cranes roosting in the sandbars, just waking up themselves. Around 7 a.m., as the sun came up, *SHA BAM!* They all took to the sky, hundreds of thousands of them, and made their mass commute to the fields to chow down on corn and other farm-y stuff for the day.
Amazing!
2 comments:
Sandhill cranes are scary animals. They were probably on their way to homer, and you should have stopped them!
They were on their way to their nesting ground in AK! Nebraska is their pit stop– I fed them more corn for strength to harass you.
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