It seems a bit odd to me that I should be held disreputable for a chickens’ reproductive and excreting methods. While I’m not able to answer that age old question about which came first, neither did I have anything to do with the construction and execution of the ‘vent method’ referenced in a previous post.
And, aside from having aged a smidgen more since we last connected with eyes and ears, I’m still pretty much that same ‘ol elusive, mysterious, enigma that I’ve always been. Wafting in and out of the present and past and doing my best to stay under the radar screen that is responsible for bad feelings, AK-47’s, and all other mean missives.
However, Sandhill Cranes are now migrating northwards in huge silvery V’s, wending their way towards their preferred breeding grounds, and sounding their prehistoric calls that give me such current happiness married with hope for the future. (Maybe not for us, but likely for them as they’ve already been around for fifteen million years or so, while our relatively short-lived human sprint seems headed for the stuff that exudes from chicken posteriors.)
And Spring, unmistakable Spring, inexorable Spring is shouting its presence on the natural stage despite I-285 and the “progress” that roaring bulldozers are making to “improved real estate”. Hang on chillun! Nature bats last and Her lineup includes chicken vents, Sandhills, and those blazingly hot pink ‘Okame’ flowering cherry trees!
Yep, they’ve been migrating north for the last couple of weeks. In our area, they’ll be headed south in November and December. They are huge birds ( about 42″ at maturity) and have a call that I can only describe as somewhat guttural. Nothing like the honking of geese for which they are frequently mistaken. I’ll tip my hand on spirituality in this forum: when I hear or see them I am moved to tears. Hard to describe exactly why, but they represent a continuity to life with their coming and going; their silvery wings of migration describe grandeur; their milling about as they wait for stragglers is community; their lofty height above human heads feels like hope.
A View from the Back Porch 
It raised my spirits today to see your latest. I am always enthralled by the cycle of the seasons and how wildlife responds. Sandhill Cranes have been a favorite of mine for years, marking the seasons as surely as the horticulture here abouts. Hope you’re doing well and enjoying this respite from winter (or perhaps the beginning of Spring!)
Thanks for your affirmation, Phyllis! Just like they do in the Fall, the Spring migration of the Sandhills give a sense of continuity to our lives don’t they?
Thanks, Doug. I think I saw my first sandhill crane migration the other day. I heard them first and looked up. They were flying higher than the geese I see. I love the way you described them, especially how they represent community and hope.
Sandhill Cranes give me a childlike wonder of the world . . . awe, excitement, and mystery. I’m glad you are now familiar with them, Amanda!
Lovely, Doug, and amazing how you somehow meandered from chicken butts to sublime sights. But then, I suppose that is the way of life itself? You also have a knack for titling, a skill I rarely find in myself. Good to see you blogging again: I miss your words and insights. As well as incites.
Mary, you and others have been very important to me in terms of encouragement. To say that I appreciate your support is an understatement.
Your affirmations are appreciated, Mary! It was fun doing this and thanks for the encouragement!
Good to see you writing again. Keep it up. The cranes thank you, and I thank you.
Compliments from you are especially significant, Doris, as you are a very creative and competent writer yourself!
We have a lot to learn from the Sandhills!
We could do a lot worse than learn a few things from the cranes. Thanks for the reminder!
You are so kind and supportive of so many writers, Josh. Thank you!
And you, Josh, deserve a medal for being the best supporter of us crazy writers!
I remember watching the cranes with you and a small group that you took through Smith gardens. They are beautiful and their sound to me was haunting. Another beautiful lesson in nature from you for which I think you
It’s nice to know that I’ve been able to have a positive impact on you, Barbara!