March 11, 2024
My friend Jenny and I were awestruck after encountering a tremendous number of Sandhill Cranes at a pitstop in Willcox, Arizona. There were thousands of them. The sun was beginning its descent when we arrived, lending a soft hue over the landscape. We walked in silence for half an hour, fixated on the group. Most birds rested with their heads tucked into their dorsal feathers, while several others leapt into the air in a behavior befitting their nickname “Dancing Cranes.”
We were drawn away by a melodic song and followed the sound to a patch of tangled vegetation. There, a single Chihuahuan Meadowlark belted out his song between foraging, offering us intimate looks before sundown. We would go on to spend a couple of days birding the Chiricahua Mountains of southeast Arizona, but funny enough, this unassuming stop remains one of my favorite memories from the trip.
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Gone Birdin' 