I was walking a favorite path at sunrise. I veered off on a smaller trail to see where it would lead. I almost turned around once or twice but was curious to see where it would go. It was just heading across a big field that ended in a development of townhomes, but still . . . When the path finally came to an end, I looked to the north and saw a sight that took my breath away. From that distance it looked like the notes on a sheet of music. I knew just what it was and could not believe it. I could not believe it! I had to get closer.
I left the path and headed across an expanse of last year's tall prairie grass and plowed my way through in spite of the pokes from the little pricker bushes. I came to a line of trees. No path. I kept going because I wanted to SEE. I picked my way over and under the thick undergrowth and deadfalls of limbs. It wasn't easy. I still have a stick that poked its way through my heavy army jacket as testimony. I was the pioneer making a discovery that no one else had yet seen. Or so it felt.
I found myself at last on the edge of a large marsh. Dotted across the water were tall, tall dead trees, slimmed down of branches and the perfect place for those immense, long legged cranes to build their nests and easily spread their wide wings to fly in and out of their perches. They were there. Graceful in flight, majestic at rest, standing straight. They were gathering at the beginning of their season of new babies yet to come, as winter kisses spring. The nests remain to welcome them back each year.
It was such an incredible sight. I alone was there to witness them on that perfect morning. I was there long enough for my hands to get freezing cold as I took pictures as best that I could. I watched until I knew it was time to leave.
Looking back, I am so grateful for that moment. From my own natural curiosity and a gently guiding Hand that kept me moving forward came an unforgettable gift.
