February 26, 2009 - Searching for cattle & cranesell 0
nearchiing for
We are on one of those long, sandy
islands that he west of mainland Flor-
ida.There is a bridge to the mainland.
When the wind is just right and we
cross over the bridge, we often have a
pelican or a gull flying right alongside
us Somehow they know how to take
advantage of the turbulence created by
the bridge and they seem to float right
alongside our car. Often I feel like I
could reach out and touch one of them.
In the evening we enjoy the bridge
when it is all lit up in carnival fashion;
add the moving cars with their red and
white lights as they travel back and
forth and the bridge becomes a spec-
tacle to see. These events coupled with
the everyday openings and closings of
the bridge to let the inland boat traffic
pass through give
FOCUS us a never-ending
view of our
O N changing world.
NATURE We often leave
our beach home
by Paul for one reason
Stoutenburgh or another and
have to travel
over the bridge. Just the other day we
headed east in hopes of seeing some
of the Florida countryside. We almost
got lost at one point because of all
the construction, but we eventually
found ourselves in cattle country.
We were sorry to see great chunks of
farmland being bought up for housing
developments At one time this area
was cattle country. We could see rem-
nants of those days with an occasional
old rusty piece of farm machinery left
lying in the fields. This area reminds
us of what we've seen on Lang Island;
farmland losing out to development.
We looked over every field in
hopes of seeing some bird life. As we
threaded our way through the back
country, we started to see more and
more of the cattle that Florida was
once well known for.
On we went, slowing down at every
open field in hopes of seeing some of
the bird life that was mentioned in
the little birding pamphlet "Florida
Hotspots" It suggested that in this area
we might find Eastern meadowlarks,
sandhill cranes, red - winged blackbirds,
loggerhead shrikes, burrowing owls
and maybe some raptors (hawks).
We finally came to a field with
cattle grazing where, much to our de-
light, we spotted four sandhill cranes.
"Pull over! Stop! Cameras ready!"
Barbara and I started clicking away
February 26, 2009 • The Suffolk Times • 9A
Cattle & cranes
kawx p
41
v,
Y
Su((ol;c Times photo by Barbara Stouto"tmgh
We were fascinated by the trumpet-
ing cries and antics of the sandhill
cranes, seen here calling, bills point-
ed upward. Their calls can be heard
for miles around.
at these magnificent cranes even be-
fore getting out of the car. They paid
little attention to us, so finally we felt
at ease and moved about.
We must have spent an hour or
so there, mesmerized by their antics,
their raucous calls and the clacking of
their bills They made our day. Even-
tually their calls aroused two others,
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William Siemers, Rabbi
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For reservations, please cal[
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We tvekatne gLesls 490 Northville Ri a al Ostrander Ave.
P.O. Box 1531, 531, Riverhead, NV 119Dt
— .TemplelstaelRiverhead.org (631) 727 -3191
Much of Florida's
vast cattle
country, where
sandhill cranes
can be found, has
been bought up
for development.
Sandhill crane
numbers diminish
as their habitat
diminishes. If
you find a field of
cattle, you might
be visited by some
sandhill cranes
sooner or later.
Suffolk Times photo by
Paul Stoutenburgh
some distance away, that soon came We ate dinner and shortly thereafter
flying in. They gave us a great close- went to bed. About 12 o'clock Barbara
up show of cranes in flight. woke me because of a strange sound
The sandhill crane is a magnificent she heard. We lay there straining our
bird. The adults stand over four feet ears to pick up the mysterious call
high, and with a wingspan reaching 6 again. There it was. There was some -
1/2 feet across they are an impressive thing weird about it. It was a call we'd
sight. This tall, gray bird has a lifespan have to track down in the morning.
in the wild of 20 to 25 years. The sexes After a hearty breakfast at dawn,
look alike. Once paired, the cranes Barbara squared away the camper
mate for life. while I headed out to see if I could
The only other bird in North America find the mysterious caller. Bits and
that somewhat rivals the sandhill crane pieces of the call could be heard
in looks is the common great blue heron every few minutes I did some of my
we see around our creeks It stands a best stalking as I headed in the direc-
foot shorter than the sandhill crane and tion of the sound. Soon it was so loud
lacks the red top notch on its head.The I expected I might see some alien
voice of the great blue heron is a low, creature any minute.
guttural sound whereas the call of the Then I finally saw the reason for
sandhill crane is loud and primitive and all the ruckus It was a baby sandhill
can be heard a mile or more away. crane, a colt standing below its proud
My first experience with sandhill parents It was a fuzzy, reddish -brown
cranes was when we were camping bit of fluff that had probably hatched
out West. We had read how thousands during the night. Lying on my stom-
of cranes stop at the Platte River in ach with my binoculars focused on
Nebraska on their annual migration. the baby crane's parents, I watched as
Some say up to 450,000. Sorry to say, they jumped up and down with their
we arrived too late to witness the spec- heads thrown back going through their
tacle of their passing through. After bill- clacking ritual, probably telling the
exploring every possible place they world of their new arrival.
might have been, we had to "give up What a thrill! I'll never forget that
the chase" and continue our trip. We call or the antics of the proud parents
looked over our list of camps, picked I did a reverse maneuver and headed
out one and headed for it. It was the back to the camper, where Barbara
worst campsite you could imagine but was eagerly waiting to hear about my
it was only for overnight, so we took it early- morning adventure.
00 FT,
F 1, , rT,
y
February 26, 2009 • The Suffolk Times • 9A
Searching'
for cattle chi cranes
Much of Florida's
�, wlll vast cattle
country, where
sandhill cranes
can be found, has
U been bought p
for development.
Sandhill crane
nNMyiu �t
numbers diminish
.u,, i ',A n Ua�/ dl �N��rj� ii n '� �n a ,a . ,gym f i ixA ,p p
u w "' � '�, � �� w� � „��� + � as their habitat
diminishes. If
1r ;y �ti �� "� � ��4 � i�" iH r Mri, you find a field of
M' IN Mb: �i fir+ nM+lwWw G r iF�y
� � cattle, you might
ti
,6 �, N " �, f, gym, °� tf 9 �'�rr���'��� ri �� �� %� be visited by som
�� '�;O�pyrn .Aµ ��� "�Wm?��� p ��yu ' m m "``' '•� sandhill cranes
sooner or later.
Suffolk Times photo by
Paul Stoutenburah
We are on one of those long, sandy
islands that lie west of mainland Flor-
ida. There is a bridge to the mainland.
When the wind is just right and we
cross over the bridge, we often have a
pelican or a gull flying right alongside
us. Somehow they know how to take
advantage of the turbulence created by
the bridge and they seem to float right
alongside our car. Often I feel like I
could reach out and touch one of them.
In the evening we enjoy the bridge
when it is all lit up in carnival fashion;
add the moving cars with their red and
white lights as they travel back and
forth and the bridge becomes a spec -
tacle to see. These events coupled with
the everyday openings and closings of
the bridge to let the inland boat traffic
pass mrougn give
Focus us a never - ending
view of our
ON changing world.
NATURE We often leave
our beach home
by Paul for one reason
Stoutenburgh or another and
have to travel
over the bridge. Just the other day we
headed east in hopes of seeing some
of the Florida countryside. We almost
got lost at one point because of all
the construction, but we eventually
found ourselves in cattle country.
We were sorry to see great chunks of
farmland being bought up for housing
developments. At one time this area
was cattle country. We could see rem-
pants of those days with an occasiona
old rusty piece of farm machinery left
lying in the fields. This area reminds
us of what we've seen on Long Island;
farmland losing out to development.
We looked- over every field in
hopes of seeing some bird life. As we.
threaded our way through the back
country, we started to see more and
more of the cattle that.Florida was
once well known for.
On we went, slowing down at every
.open field in hopes of seeing some of
the bird life that was mentioned in
the little birding pamphlet "Florida
Hotspots." It suggested that in this area
we might find Eastern meadowlarks,
sandhill cranes, red- winged blackbirds,
loggerhead shrikes, burrowing owls
and maybe some raptors (hawks).
We. finally came to afield with
cattle grazing where, much to our de-
light, we spotted four sandhill cranes.
"Pull over! Stop! Cameras ready!"
Barbara and I started clicking away
at these magnificent cranes even be-
fore getting out of the car. They paid
little attention to us, so finally we felt
at ease and moved about.
We must have spent an hour or
so there, mesmerized by their antics,
their raucous calls and the clacking of
their bills. They made our day. Even-
tually their calls aroused two others,
Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh
We were fascinated by the trumpet-
ing cries and antics of the sandhill
cranes, seen here calling, bills point-
ed upward. Their calls can be heard
for miles around.
ome istance away, that soon came
flying in. They gave us a great close -
up show of cranes in flight.
The sandhill crane is a magnificent
bird. The adults stand over four feet
high, and with a wingspan reaching 6
1/2 feet across they are an impressive
sight. This tall, gray. bird has a lifespa
in the wild of 20 to 25 years. The sexes
look alike. Once paired, the cranes
mate for life.
The only other bird in North America
that somewhat rivals the sandhill crane
in looks is the common great blue heron
we see around our creeks. It stands a
foot shorter than the sandhill crane and
lacks the red top notch on its head. The
voice of the great blue heron is a low,
guttural sound whereas the call of the
sandhill crane is loud and primitive and
can be heard a mile or more away.
My first experience with sandhill
cranes was when we were camping
out West. We had read how thousands
of cranes stop at the Platte River in
Nebraska on their annual migration.
Some say up to 450,000. Sorry to say,
we arrived too late to witness the spec
tacle of their passing through. After
exploring every possible place they
might have been, we had to "give up
the chase" and continue our trip. We
looked over our list of camps, picked
out one and headed for it. It was the
worst campsite you could imagine but
it was only for overnight, so we took it.
We ate dinner ands orfFy-Triereatter
Went to bed. About 12 o'clock Barbara
woke me because of a strange sound
she heard. We lay there straining our
ears to pick up the mysterious call
again. There it was. There was some-
thing weird about it. It was a call we'd
have to track down in the morning.
After a hearty breakfast at dawn,
Barbara squared away the camper
while I headed out to see if I could
find the mysterious caller. Bits and
pieces of the call could be heard
every few minutes. I did some of my
best stalking as I headed in the direc-
tion of the sound. Soon it was so loud
I expected I might see some alien
creature any minute.
Then I finally saw the reason for
all the ruckus. It was a baby sandhill
crane, a colt standing below its proud
parents. It was a fuzzy, reddish -brown
bit of fluff that had probably hatched
during the night. Lying on my stom-
ach with my binoculars focused on
the baby crane's parents, I watched as
they jumped up and down with their.
heads thrown back going through their
bill- clacking ritual, probably telling the
world of their new arrival.
What a thrill! I'll never forget that
call or the antics of the proud parents.
I did a reverse maneuver and headed
back to the camper, where Barbara
was eagerly waiting to hear about my
earlv- mornine adventure.