Usually in late February my mind begins to wander West along the Platte River. Countless Sandhill Cranes migrate on the Platte River Valley as they rest and fuel up before resuming their northward migration. I have a mental list of contents for the cooler, normally packed the night before our journey. Enough “provisions” for us and the dogs as we make our annual visit with the Cranes. The truck is always packed and gassed for our very early departure from home. Accompanied by my old “trucking thermos” (which holds a pot and a half of coffee!) we leave the house around two or three in the morning to beat the sunrise over the valley. We usually repeat this routine several times between late February and mid-April. We opt to skip the popular “viewing locations”, instead choosing poorly maintained, unmapped country roads. Binoculars, spotting scopes, tripods and 3 or 4 cameras in tow most of our fondest crane-viewing memories are from “unbeaten paths” that meander around that part of Nebraska. Unfortunately, we didn’t make the trip this year. Instead, I found myself in the studio recovering from a December surgery and pouring through photographs from previous outings, regretting being “too busy” for our reunion with the Cranes. I had this crane set aside as a “rainy day”endeavor. Having been meticulously working on floral projects since the first operations in December, I desperately needed a break and different subject matter. This years’ migration has long since past. As I worked on this piece I could only rely on my memories of the emotions, the excitement of first sightings during this amazing event each spring. Hopefully next year we are able to make our annual trek… Thanks for listening…