Seven Sandhill Cranes coming in to roost on the Platte River in Nebraska align with the full moon. This was an extra special trip because I shared it with my youngest son Jacob, who was about 11 years old at the time, and our good friends Bob and Bobby Shires. The best image of the trip didn't make it on film but will be forever imprinted in my memory. It was the four of us sitting around the campfire grilling steaks with the trilling of cranes all around us as flight after flight of Sandhills dropped onto the small island we were camped on and as if that wasn't dramatic enough huge snow flakes began to fall. Steak, fire, friends, snow and an 80 million year old tradition of nature. Awesome.
February 11th, 2016
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