The cranes

For the first dawn of 2015, I got up early and drove 6 miles to the pasture where a flock of sandhill cranes spends its days during the winter. I drive by the pasture every morning during my commute to school. I was running a few minutes behind so I knew I would not be there in time to see them all land. About thirty or forty were still arriving as I stood by the fence. Among those who had already landed was the whooping crane, a real standout among the sandhills. "Does he know he's different?"  another birder asked me. Surely he doesn't need a mirror to know that. Both of his legs were covered with colorful bands to show how many people are watching his progress. He poked around in the grass alongside his grey cousins. I felt it was a good way to start the new year, watching him and hoping balance can be restored between human endeavors and the natural world.