Sense of Adventure

No, it’s not some kind of industrial art photograph. Although it’d make a cool one.

A little while back - around 4:20 PM - I took a break from Annja’s latest exploits and went out to bring the Christmas boxes in from the shed. A couple weeks ago I strung some colored lights on the mantel to brighten the shortening days and do some light therapy, as it were (worked, by the way.) Today I decided the time had come to begin serious holiday preparation.

I’d hardly stepped off the porch when I heard the unmistakable burbling of cranes. And there they were, about halfway up the sky and not terribly far away: a vee of maybe thirty individuals, including an extra bar parallel to the lower arm, southbound.

I love it.

Years ago when I first moved to Jupiter - twenty years ago this past April, in fact - I was entranced to discover the wild geese flew over my house in Spring and Fall. Many times I was awakened by their poignant cries as formations passed overhead.

Maybe ten years or so ago their flight path changed. They didn’t fly my way any more. But soon enough the Sandhills start coming over. So that’s not so bad a trade.

I don’t know if these were fixing to light here or heading on south to the Bosque el Apache, which is a huge crane hangout in the winter. Given the lateness of the day I’m presuming they were at least getting ready to settle for the night along the river. It seems late in the season for them to still be coming (although it’s true the Crane Festival down at Bosque del Apache was just a week or two ago.) Nowadays the cranes winter here in substantial numbers, all the way through to Spring. A few years ago this was basically a stopover for a few weeks or a month before they went on south - or headed to Cali to have sex (granted, a common enough reason for going to California.)

Always good to see them, though. And to hear them…

Today, after much too long an absence, Emma Dog and I went for a walk along the clear ditch by the Rio Grande Nature Center. It was one of those golden-velvet afternoons that make Fall my favorite season of the year.

Coming out of the Center proper, or up the bike path from the south, you cross a bridge to the levee bike path on the west side of the ditch. Perhaps a quarter mile north another footbridge crosses back to the east side, where a tree-shaded dirt trail runs. As you come off that bridge you’re looking off across the wide fields the Nature Center maintains as a wildfowl preserve.

Stopping to look out at them I saw, far off across them, suspicious looking pale-grey shapes. Looking through my indispensable Simmons monocular I confirmed they were, in fact, Sandhill cranes - first of the season that I’ve seen.

Always a treat to see them. I’m looking forward to hearing them, and looking up and seeing them fly south in their vees. If I’m lucky, I might be wakened some morning soon by their distinctive, piercing, bubbling cries. When I first moved into my house on Jupiter the wild geese would announce autumn by flying over, which always thrilled me. Then their flight paths shifted and I was bereft. But a couple years ago the cranes started going over. Which is at least as cool.

As we walked back the Canada geese, who are arriving back in big numbers (unlike cranes they never all leave ABQ), raised a colossal fuss off out of sight in the fields. I’m guessing coyotes were working the field. They do that.

On the way home I stopped off to buy dinner at Lowe’s across Fourth Street. In the produce section I heard a middle-aged guy cheerfully explaining to a lady who works there that he was just buying a pumpkin as a treat for his chickens - and only because they were out of watermelons.

Indeed do many things come to pass.

Next: When Great Sky Demons Attack and its terrifying sequel, Bring Me the Head of Mickey Mouse.

Emma and I took our (mostly) daily walk on the ditch that runs along the east side of the Rio Grande Nature Center preserve. In the southeast corner, the southern end of the field marked off by stands of trees was flooded and marshy. Along with the inevitable mallards and huge Canada geese, strutting right near the fence was a cattle egret, with its sulfur-colored crest very visible.

Hummingbirds have arrived - saw one sitting on a wire, sorting things out. I finally saw a couple of Gambrel’s quail - they usually hang out near the ditch all the time, but I haven”t seen any for months. And over by the clear ditch, that runs along the paved bike path west of the RGNC proper, there was a kind of whirlwind of swallows, mostly barn.

A pleasant day. Rained vigorously last night. Wasn’t too muddy, but the smells were freshened and accentuated.