By David Horst sandhill7@gmail.com
It's a routine every April -- grab the camera, spotting scope and a notebook, dress in layers and head out before sunrise.
The International Crane Foundation's annual Sandhill Crane Count requires me to sit quietly and watch the morning come.
Saturday, April 14, I'm sitting in a lawn chair at the edge of one of last year's cornfields, waiting for cranes. The count begins at 5:30 a.m. My only company as I set up are the peeping of a killdeer and a fog-shrouded half-moon.
The usual routine is that the cranes start calling from the swamp beyond the farm field and, within an hour, start flying in one, two or three at a time.
This year is anything but routine. The count is taking place in the aftermath of a one-sided Conservation Congress vote in favor of a hunting season for sandhills.
If that were not enough, small orange flags flop in the stiff wind that often seems to accompany crane count day. They mark the corridor of a four-lane bypass highway around Hortonville that will wipe out my crane counting area and dislocate its residents.
It's 6 a.m and still no crane song. Cows down the road bellow for breakfast. Redwinged blackbirds trill their part in the morning chorus, but the lead singers have not taken the stage.
Finally, at 6:16 a.m., a pair of sandhills flies over. Three minutes later, a lone crane glides gracefully down to the field.
A pair of pileated woodpeckers keeps me entertained. One of the large Woody Woodpecker-like birds loudly hammers on a dying tree along the railroad tracks -- used twice weekly -- that separate my observation spot from a vacant lot and our quiet country road. What I assume is the pileated's mate shouts instructions from farther up the tracks.
I've kept tabs on my counting spot over the past couple of weeks and have seen as many as 30 cranes feeding right near where I sit now. There have been breeding pairs in the mix, recognized by their "unison call." One sings a two-note melody while the other blends in a single-note rhythm line. Their songs increase in speed and intensity until their voices blend into a single call.
But not this morning.
Maybe the cranes have gotten wind of the Conservation Congress vote going against them and are suppressing the numbers to be reported. Three more would fly over and three would land by the end of the count at 7:30 a.m., for a total of nine.
I remember a time, when I was just coming to appreciate the beauty and diversity of the outdoors, that sandhill cranes were as rare a sight in Wisconsin as the endangered whooping crane is now.
If sense sees a rare victory in Madison, whooping cranes will go the way of sandhills instead of the other way around.
EARTH DAY: April 22 is the 42nd annual Earth Day. Beyond the barage of marketing that will have every company trying to persuade you how green they are, you can find genuine advocates of sustainable living at the Fox Cities' largest Earth Day event, located outside of Habitat for Humanity's ReStore at 3000 E. College Ave. in Appleton (Appletonrestore.org) you will find displays by many of the local environmental groups and discussions of evrything from organic lawn care to how to build your own rainbarrel. See you there.
David Horst's nature column appears here regularly. Email him or read past columns on his blog at www.uponthesandhill.blogspot.com.
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