Then Came the Sandhill Cranes

Late on a cold, crisp afternoon, I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air and take in some of nature’s sights and sounds before nighttime fell on our little part of the world.

A small flock of cedar waxwings, with their high-pitched whistles, flitted about in the sky before temporarily settling in the top of one of our maple trees.

A group of grackles shared an adjoining maple tree, the males puffing out their feathers and bellowing out raspy squeaks in an attempt to outdo each other.

A robin peered down at me from its perch in the top of a neighbor’s tree.

Then I heard them — the faint and familiar sound of a bird that I have been looking forward to seeing since they returned to their wintering grounds at a nearby refuge.  Flying high above, they slowly came into sight — my first seasonal glimpse of the Sandhill Cranes.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” ~Maya Angelou