When I tell folks I’m going to Nebraska, they screw up their face in a tight wad and ask, “WHY?” I can tell they’ve not heard about the magic that is Nebraska (you should check out Bill Frakes Nebraska Project!). I have so not tapped that magic that is Nebraska but that one little bit I have, keeps bringing me back again and again and when you realize it’s to be locked in a 4×8 box with another photographer and all our gear for a minimum of 16 hours, you gotta think there is something special. The Hope …
With a crash, at 16:30 our driver with what seem some glee, slammed the door to our blind saying, “I’m locking your in now.” (There is an emergency number inside the blind for the locksmith, no kidding!) Where the day before we had solid gray skies and the rain storm that night of biblical proportions, today was the total opposite … bald skies! I hate bald skies. So there we sat waiting for four hours to see what would come of the evening. We bring our own seats and this time, I brought an extra cushion so my butt wouldn’t get up and walk out on me. Around 19:00, Mark pointed to the west and said, “Clouds!” Sure enough, two small puff balls had started to form on the western horizon. But no birds.
At 19:30 we set up our gear on our tripods and got ready for what we hoped would be a fly in. With D4s / 800mm mounted on the Gitzo, I looked out through the viewfinder at an empty river. About fifteen minutes later, we heard the first distinct Sandhill call off in the distance. Then with a thunderous explosion, the sky opened up! Thousands upon thousands of cranes descended from the heavens and for the first time for me ever in a blind, they landed right in front of us! The river was soon solid gray. And they kept coming, and coming and coming until long after is was too dark to shoot. There are no words to describe the spectacle nor the inner elation that finally we were witnessing the magic we’d so been seeking! It was simply, hope renewed.