Sandhill Cranes at Cherokee Marsh

2012 It felt like summer in November on Sunday 8. Antonio and I drive over to Cherokee Marsh, formed by the Yahara River that is the mother of the five 5 lakes that make a chain here. At the marsh the river is short of a quarter mile across with forest on the other side. Since it is November bare tree branches etch the sky. The meadows show russet, faded gold, brown, tan, beige, gray and combinations of all these colors. Walking into the nature preserve we hear the distinctive call of the Sandhill Cranes echoing to south. We walk down the gravel path to the overlook and climb the stairs to watch the tequila sunset. Heading back to the car a lone crane stretches its long neck overhead. We hear another crane conversation, this time to the north of the path. They were close by. We stopped talking and walking to listen. They take off, flying low in our direction. They veer to the east when they see us, flying away into the dusk.