I have not ever tried to write fiction in Marsh Musings. My cousin, Jack Woodville London, writes fiction with an emphasis on military history. He has excelled in that effort and has been awarded an honor for Literary Accuracy on the battlefield in his trilogy “French Letters,” which is available at many outlets. I tell you that because I know how hard he worked and the research he did was amazing. I’m not that cat — but I’m going to give it a go at least one time. Please forgive me, Jack ...
Fred and Luke are a pair of Whooping Cranes starting their migration from Aransas Pass on the Texas coast to Wood Buffalo National Park in the Northwest Territories of Canada. It is unique in that it is home to the largest herd of Wood Bison, which is a threatened species. It is also where the endangered Whooping Cranes nest. In the 1940s, there were only about 20 Whooping Cranes still alive. It is a clear tribute to the human race that the Whoopers now have several hundred birds. They were managed with airplanes, transported, and eggs were managed to increase their numbers. Their genetic diversity is still a challenge, and some birds are staying as residents, as others are introduced to different flyways. Their success is a saga that challenges “Yellowstone.”
“Fred, I’m getting that funny feeling in my stomach that happens every year when the weather and moon start to change. Bertha starts acting kinda goofy also.”
“I know exactly what you mean, Luke. Mildred is doing the same. We best have a nice farewell meal of blue crab and get ourselves ready!”
The next morning the two couples and a few others lifted off the coast of Texas and started their trip to the north. It is not a long trip by some standards, but it is about 1,300 miles as the Whooping Cranes and crows fly. They essentially all wear tracking devices and are monitored by satellite. They see a lot of small birds — warblers, sparrows, etc. flying along with them. There are also lots of geese species and other waterfowl. It is also stunning to Fred and Luke that there are so many shorebirds in this Central Flyway. They know a couple of Franklin gulls and about 80% of them come through the Cheyenne Bottoms.
Keeping an eye on the weather so that rain or high wind won’t interrupt their trip, the birds head north toward Dallas.
“What a terrible sight!” muttered Mildred. Cities are so awful! She seems to have the clearest thoughts and has managed the migration route for several years. She remembers all her chicks and blinks back a tear remembering that one of her babies had been shot by an uneducated hunter. She has kind memories of the game wardens and wetland managers that gently cared for his body. It is illegal to collect or mistreat any Whooping Crane carcasses. The fines and trouble are serious and significant.
The wind farms and power lines that kill eagles and other birds got a big relief recently. The Biden administration proposed a law that allows the killing of eagles. There has been one in place, but a few companies were fined for killing eagles. The Golden Eagle is at high risk of species reduction. The stated aim of the Biden Administration is to “avoid any slowdown in the growth of wind power to replace carbon-emitting fossil fuels” related to his climate agenda. The Federal Government already issues permits to kill eagles, but this new bill is tailored to allow wind-energy projects and power line networks to “disturb breeding bald eagles and bald eagle nests.”
Nothing is sacred anymore. Mildred has mixed emotions — she remembers a cousin that caught avian flu and was very sick when a Bald Eagle attacked and killed it. She doesn’t know that the eagle contracted avian flu from that meal and subsequently died of the disease. Huge numbers of waterfowl have been infected.
The heat reflecting off the sprawling metropolis of Dallas forces them to elevate a few thousand feet and use up some of their vital reserves. After flying past Wichita Falls and Lake Texoma (we always thought that might be a place to rest, but it is lacking a shallow end to wade and feed) they turned toward Wichita. A strong south wind has helped them get farther than they expected, so they agreed to continue in the dark to get to Quivira National Refuge. It felt so good to be in a familiar, safe, and secluded place. The thousands of Sand Hill Cranes were relaxing and calling to each other.
They will go on to the Platte River in Nebraska. Jane Goodall has an observation area and comes every year to see the thousands of Sand Hill Cranes on the Platte River. The Nature Conservancy has a huge part in this area and is well known for its contribution. Rob Penner and the Nature Conservancy are partners in the success of the Cheyenne Bottoms. Kansas Wetlands Education Center and Curtis Wolf add so much information and education for the birds. But I digress.
Mildred and Bertha wander among the Sandhills — recognizing a few from previous similar encounters, but they are intent on finding food — clams, crawfish, and minnows — as they are plentiful. During migration away from wetlands, they will eat grain products. These birds are monogamous and mild-mannered. They do some jumps and gyrations during mating season, but these birds have been together as a pair for as long as they can recall. Life span is 20 to 40 years. Mildred thinks she is 17 and feels healthy and ready to add more chicks to her life. They find a few more members of their group and find a shallow area to spend the night. It is safe — they will be aware of any predator splashing water in pursuit. They both have practiced their calls to alert their friends of any unexpected threats. She remembers fondly that on the return migration with her chicks — they always sleep standing up. She doesn’t wonder why they did that.
The flock of about five thousand Sandhill Cranes and eight Whoopers were startled into a squawking morning alert when a coyote tried to sneak and grab a Sandhill. Now everyone is watching and screeching at the animal. Another group of Sandhills erupted up the bank when a Bald Eagle with a Gadwall duck in it’s talons sailed low over their heads. They know well the skills of the hawks, eagles, harriers, Kestrels, Prairie Falcons, and Ospreys in their feeding efforts.
Our Whoopers put their heads together and decided to go the short distance to the Cheyenne Bottoms. This has been their favorite resting place each year for many years. They almost have a grin on their faces when they take off. It wasn’t long before they could see the outline of the marsh. As they drew closer, it became apparent that something was dreadfully wrong! There was no visible water. The only thing they could see was a 3-mile-long row of solar panels that stood 15 feet tall and seemed to be rotating at the south edge of the Bottoms. It was frightening! They looked at each other and went into a spiraling glide to look at this thing. There were lots of small birds low in the air that seemed to be going toward this strange thing. They could see small birds fly into the panels and die from the heat. That was a warning. The light and heat of the panels attracted the small birds to their death. The Whoopers circled and gained elevation.
Mildred remembered Wilson Reservoir and Kanopolis Lake from previous trips when the wind moved them around. Wilson seemed a better choice, so they headed in that direction. They felt confused — no water at the Bottoms and that strange line of big reflectors — Mildred decided to sit down in a large farm pond about halfway to Wilson. They all stood and thought it over. That is so strange — all the small birds dying, the odd reflections, the heat — maybe we should change our route to further east or west. I will miss my human friends from KDWP and those lovely tourism folks — but it doesn’t feel safe to use this route anymore. We will have to see what we think when we get back to Texas. They rested for a while and moved on to Wilson. There is so much phragmaties in the upper end of that lake that it is not controllable — that is very hard on our Whoopers. They face lots of challenges. Phragmites is a terrible thing.
The remainder of their trip was uneventful and they added four new chicks to the group. The return migration in the spring will be watched carefully by lots of concerned people. I wonder what Mildred will do.
Doc
Doctor Dan Witt is a retired physician and nature enthusiast. He can be reached at danwitt01@gmail.com.
