A solitary Sandhill Crane walked along the dam at the far end of the pond this morning.
Sandhills do not travel alone. Always there is a Daddy and a Mommy and in the right time of the year, a Baby. Earlier this year, Priscilla and I saw a family of four. It’s always good to see the babies. They grow up fast, though, and at the right time will take flight with their parents and go back to Nebraska and maybe Siberia. And then all will come back next year. At two years or so, the new adults will find that special other Sandhill and soon there will be more babies.
That’s the way things are supposed to be. Sandhills mate for life, so to see an adult alone is somewhat sad.
I went back to writing for a couple of minutes, and then looked up to check on the Sandhill. It was now near the end of the dam.
Behind the Sandhill was another crane, one I took as the same size, but white. I replaced my computer reading glasses with looking at real stuff glasses. The other crane looked white because of the sun’s angle. It was another Sandhill. Together, the two Sandhills walked from the dam and onto another grassy area.