The Sandhill Cranes Are Gone!

These gawky-looking birds prance around on their long legs, and scour the water for fish and other food. Sometimes they have a red topknot on their heads -- sometimes not.

Whatchu lookin' at?

And all the while they're doing this, they have long, involved discussions, commentary and arguments with every other bird in the group. 

What?!?

And there are hundreds, if not thousands of them, all jammed into one area. Like here, at Whitewater Draw, a refuge in Arizona.

But when they fly, they are the most graceful of creatures.

Particularly against the sunset.

Here's a general look at the cranes. They're amazing. 

According to National Geographic:

Migratory subspecies of sandhill cranes breed in the Northern U.S., Canada, Alaska, and Siberia. Each winter they undertake long southern journeys to wintering grounds in Florida, Texas, Utah, Mexico, and California. En route, more than three-fourths of all sandhill cranes use migratory staging areas in a single 75-mile stretch along Nebraska's Platte River.

I'd known about the cranes arriving in Nebraska -- they fly into Kearney every spring. 

What we didn't know was that the cranes spend their winters in Whitewater Draw, a refuge less than ten miles from our desert camping spot in McNeal, Arizona! 

We drove over to Whitewater Draw, not long after we got here in February. Not only did we see WATER (a very unusual sight), but too many sandhill cranes to count. The place was jammed with feathered bodies fighting, chatting and flying off -- sometimes to another part of the refuge, but more often to one of the nearby irrigated fields. There, they have a snack, take a rest...then fly back for the night to nest with their buddies. 

Picture an extremely crowded Holiday Inn. No curfew at the pool, either.

About three weeks ago, the Brick was headed to work on the house renovation when he saw a huge wave of cranes fly up in the air -- all talking at once. They were so loud that I heard them, four or so blocks away. 

     Sounded like a very enthusiastic garden party. 

A week later, we stopped by Whitewater Draw -- they were gone. 

With the exception of three or four stragglers, all the cranes had flown away. 

Presumably up north -- maybe Nebraska? The shallow lake was all but empty, and the silence seemed more deafening than all the previous racket. 

Weird.

(individual crane photos are from Wikipedia -- the rest are yours truly's, from Arizona. Whitewater Draw's parking lot, by the way, is free to camp at -- portajohns, but no water faucets noticed.)