Today as I was walking from my car to the Lee Center before my lecture I heard the unmistakable bugling, gurgling chorus of ancient voices high overhead. I stopped and pivoted and lifted my eyes to the clear blue sky and I spotted them snaking across a cloudless canvas in a loose "V". Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis) were moving south again, and their high altitude journey was a sure sign that fall was blending into early winter. The first hint of their autumnal music always seems like a point of demarcation for me, and a song that foretells of colder nights, shorter days, and the stunning quietude of the first snowfall in the woods.
"You always hear them before you see them..." I said to no one in particular, though I think I was just comforting myself that in a changeable, unstable world, some things seem to be constant and familiar. I touched my chest over my heart and I raised my hand up towards the line of birds far above me. Not one for prayer, I nevertheless felt a brief surge of gratitude course through me as I sent my thoughts to the cranes passing over me up high, wishing them safe travels on their journeys ahead.
"Long days and pleasant nights..." I whispered under my breath.
Where they are going - I must admit that I'm not quite sure, other than south - but I suspect that they might find some longer days for themselves, even as winter approaches and the living world seems ready for a long slumber.
Thank you for this beautiful site. I live in Des Plaines, and Oakton College is that thing I go by fast on Golf Rd. Thank you for the new eyes. I also listen for the sandhill cranes every fall.
This is beautiful! This website has great information!! can’t wait for more blogs! 🙌🏽