This is Bird Note. When writer Leanne Rohropaw visited the annual staging grounds of

Sand Hill cranes in Nebraska, she was in awe of the birds. During their spring migration,

hundreds of thousands of crayons roost on sandbars in the Platte River.

Leanne had been invited to a retreat where writers could witness this natural wonder.

We would go out every morning to see the cranes take off from the sand bars,

and then we would return at dusk to see them fly back in to settle in for the night and that was so incredible and unforgettable.

The sound and sight of these birds is breathtaking.

Leanne captures it beautifully in this poem.

Sand Hill cranes, string of beads.

Sizzle of orange, lightning,

the corrugated tin blind agot bell clanging in the wind and rain.

Curious deer near to sea.

Roosting overnight in clusters on the rivers sandbars. Crane sturd to call in response by the storm.

Say hello.

Hello.

Hell oh.

Scribbled warble of Crens, graffiti knights water.

A river otters, sleek whiskered head interrupts the river's tense murmuring.

Train whistles blurred spear,

curlicued by coyotes, yip and wail.

The woodblock, chortling of cranes,

gets frenetic as sun's wobbly gold yolk slides up.

...