The Alaska Journal: Cranes

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A big gaggle of geese just flew overhead, making the trek to northern nesting grounds. I estimated that perhaps sixty to seventy were in this particular vee.  They were honking and flapping, making quick progress across my slice of the sky.  It's always fun to see and hear them, and now that I have been to the far north, I can even picture where it is they might be landing when they make it to their summer home.

While we were in Alaska, we had the opportunity to watch a crane.  I didn't have my bird book with me, but I am fairly certain that it was a sandhill crane. On a trip in 2009, we saw hundreds of these magnificent birds in Nebraska.  They were in the midst of their spring migration, with their annual stopover along the Platte River. During the day, the cranes feed in the fields that line both the river and the freeway. It was amazing to watch them poking along, looking for whatever critters they eat, all the while hearing the traffic go by. We were staying at a campground outside of Kearney, and learned that if we were quiet and non-intrusive, we could view them from a short distance.  In the evening, they left the fields to roost at the river. When that is happening, the sky is filled with these birds, huge flocks, flying overhead. They squawk loudly when they fly. We had walked to a viewing area on the river, and it almost felt like pre-historic creatures were above us. I think that is because of their size, and the span of their wings.

It wasn't as dramatic in Alaska. I recognized the sound, and recalled those days in Nebraska. Robert and Amanda said that a pair often will land in the pond at the edge of their dog yard. The cranes are looking for frogs to eat.  We had been hearing the frogs, so I imagine the supply was good.  One afternoon, a lone crane was feeding, and it was either curious or brave. It kept moving closer to the dogs, perhaps for a better look. I was able to stand for several moments, snapping photos as it gracefully came along.  Robert told me that sometimes the birds become really obnoxious. One time last summer, a pair stood right outside of their cabin window, squawking away, in their strange, mechanical-like voices.  It was light out, but it happened to be the middle of the night. Robert and Amanda were not amused.



I like the idea that I have seen the stopover place, and the summer grounds for these birds. It's easy to picture them up in the tundra, nesting and raising the young.  Someday, I would like to see the winter retreat that the cranes inhabit. In the meantime, I'll keep an eye on our local skies, and at my birdfeeder, too. There is so much to see right here in my own backyard.

Riding on the High Waters

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High water continues to dominate the nature news in this part of the neighborhood. I saw in the Duluth News-Tribune that they were featuring videos of raging rivers. For us, the run-off isn't exactly raging, but it still is pouring into the lake, and that makes the level rise.  The result for us is vigilance....we keep an eye on the boats, the ramps, and the docks.  

Our own landing ramp has some lines that serve as markers for high water years.  Last week, before the rain started, I remarked to Greg that I would love to see the level reach the first crack across the concrete. He pointed to a rock on the other side of the dock, and said that he wanted to see it underwater completely.  We both got our wishes.  As we prepared to go for a barge ride last night, he walked into the water to that crack, and estimated it to be eight inches under. The rock looks submerged to at least that depth also, but we don't want to go swimming yet to verify it!

We trolled along the south side of the lake, near to shore so that we could see the docks of the neighbors.  In most cases, everything was far enough out of the water to still be safe. I can't go so far as to say high and dry.  One boat had a back end full of water, so we lifted and pulled, able to inch the boat and its ramp high enough on land to allow the water to drain out.  



When I stand on the dock, I can see lots of debris floating in the lake.  Accustomed to scanning for birds, instead, I see sticks, logs, and other stuff.  If you are going boating on the lake anytime soon, be watchful for these things.  It's no fun to hit them.  

With nicer weather now, the water should recede a bit.  Already, one of my fishermen reported a slowing of the flow at the mouth of the Cross River, on the west end of the lake.  That is a favorite spot to go fishing for walleyes at this time of the year.  With high water, it will be a bit different for finding the usual hot spots.  

Life's a Party

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Today looks like this:

The sun is shining; the lake is relatively calm.  Water is still running down the hills from all of the rain that we had on Wednesday and Thursday.  The Morton Salt girl must have been in the neighborhood, because it truly did pour on us.  Such a welcome sight, given how dry we had gotten to be in this part of Minnesota.  At the end of it, the rain gauge was nearly brimming.

The weather threw one heck of a party on Thursday night.  The wind was 10-20 mph out of the west, and the waves went dancing.  I was laying in bed, listening to the waves beating against the shore, the boats, and the docks.  On Friday, the "furniture" was all rearranged.

It felt a little like the morning after, as we worked to right the scene.  Paul and I got into the water, while Greg manned the skidsteer.  Within a half-hour, the boats and ramps were higher on the beach, safe from whatever the lake was planning to dish out that day.  The wind did continue, making it a little difficult to be on the water.  Instead, it was a "By land..." day, as I like to call it, and we had several people stop in to the store.  When the wind kicks up like that, it's a good opportunity to take a drive and see what is down all the little roads in the neighborhood. 

It seems the bears felt that it was a good night to party, too.  At one moment, I thought that the pounding of water-on-boats had increased. This was near to midnight on Thursday.  I commented to Greg about it, and then we heard a crash.  "What was that?!" he asked.  It took just a second for me to put it all together in my sleep-laden head.  "Bears," was the answer.  Sure enough, a family had come to make their own party on our porch.  Greg went down and snapped on the porch light, to find Mama Bear had been busy.  First, she knocked over the garbage can where I normally store sunflower seeds for the winter birds.  The chickadees had finished the last of the seeds in April, and I had put the feeders into the can. Evidently, the scent still lingered, and that is what mama went for.

She must have been disappointed, but found some hope in a bag of grass seed that I had left nearby.  With the snap of the light, Greg caught her off guard.  She had the white sack in her mouth, as if she had just gone shopping and was carrying her grocery bag out.  Her jaw dropped in surprise, and the bag fell, scattering seed on the deck.  She took off down the steps.  Her three cubs, also in attendance, took leaps over the side of the porch, while Greg hollered at them.  Off they went, into the dark and stormy night.  They never returned to the lodge, but I did notice that Mama left her calling card outside of White Pine cabin.  I guess that it is officially summer, now that we have had a visit from these neighbors!

So it is wonderful to see a day with sunshine, and the lake in a quieter state.  The weather report predicts more rain for tonight and tomorrow, but we will make sure that the boats are on higher ground.  Greg says that the lake level seems to have come up another eight inches.  I heard that Bridal Falls is really roaring over its rocky edge.  Tonight we'll throw our own party, as I am firing up the bread oven and making pizza for everyone to enjoy.  Let the fun times begin--summer is here!