Sanford's Wild Sandhill Cranes

Sanford residents and visitors alike have experienced a rare treat for the past few weeks, a visiting pair of adult sandhill cranes. They have been frequenting several large cleared areas in Tramway, centered around the Bojangles on Tramway Road. Numerous accounts of sightings and encounters with the pair have appeared on social media, with varying degrees of accuracy regarding the true nature of these spectacular animals. 

Sandhill cranes are very large birds, with mature adults reaching a height of four feet or more, so they're pretty hard to miss, particularly when they stand on the parking lot curb or meander across the asphalt and join the restaurant patrons in the drive thru lane.

They are larger than the superficially similar great blue herons which are a very common and frequently seen wading bird native to our area. To the casual observer, the most obvious difference between the two is the bright red forehead of the sandhill crane.

Various birding websites and publications report a few sightings of sandhill cranes in North Carolina each year, most of which are observed migrating across the extreme southwestern counties of North Carolina on their way to breeding grounds in the Upper Midwest and Canada during the early spring. 

It is highly unusual, if not downright rare, for a pair of these magnificent creatures to appear in the veritable heart of North Carolina, much less hang around for weeks as this pair has.

There has been considerable speculation online among the area population generally, as well as knowledgeable birders, regarding the origins of Sanford's rare avian visitors and their possible fate. 

The nearest year-round resident population of sandhill cranes is in Florida. While most of North America's sandhill cranes migrate far to the north each spring to breed, the Florida sandhill cranes are a non-migratory resident population. Due to habitat loss in their historical Florida range, this population has been given threatened status and offered special protections under Florida law. Aside from habitat loss and degradation, one of the greatest threats to these birds comes from well-meaning humans. 

These large, attractive birds readily accept offerings of food from humans, and can become quite tame in the face of frequent feedings. Although such interaction might appear to be positive for all parties, it actually represents a significant danger to the birds by attracting them to areas with high automobile traffic and significant numbers of overhead utility lines, two of the most common causes of death for these amazing birds.

The threat of unintended harm as a result of feeding has resulted in a Florida law specifically banning the feeding of Florida sandhill cranes. Coincidentally, the home range of the Florida sandhill crane population encompasses the city of Sanford, located in Seminole County, Florida, and the website of their local newspaper features several photos of their local sandhill cranes.

Which raises the possibility that maybe our visitors are simply ambassadors from a sister city in the Sunshine State..., or maybe not.

While we may never know the full story behind these remarkable birds and their odyssey before they arrived in our fair town, perhaps we can learn from the experiences of residents in another Sanford further south, and honor the wildness of these wonderful creatures by admiring them from afar. 

 If we allow them to forage naturally, they can sustain themselves on the bounty of food available to them in the nearby fields and lawns and waterways, and we can avoid the potentially dire unintended consequences of our well-intentioned efforts to feed them. 

And who knows? 

Maybe they'll decide to stick around and raise a family; 

or at the very least, come back to see us again next year.

Mom's Mock Orange...

Over at Mom and Jim's last week, we managed to catch the mock orange near the peak of its blooming, and the floral feast brought back wonderful childhood memories, many of which reside in that tiny little spot of sandy ground just out in front of my childhood home where the mock orange still stands sentinel today.  

For my three siblings and me, this tiny little front yard was our portal to the great outdoors,

where we conspired to spend as much time as possible,
growing up wild as we did in the Sandhills. 

And Spring was the best of times "out front," 

playing amidst a wonderful assortment of traditional Southern flora, 

some native and some introduced.

The show started in early to mid-February with the sweet-breath-of-spring, 

Lonicera fragrantissima, 

which had indirectly travelled all the way from China to grace one front corner of the house. Practically all our friends and neighbors had at least one old sweet-breath-of-spring somewhere on their property, and the fragrance was downright delicious!

Right next door, immediately outside my parents' bedroom window, 

stood the mock orange, 

which graciously bloomed a good bit later, 

so as not to outshine its fragrant, but less showy, neighbor.

Alongside and overhead climbed the wisteria vine, another Asian visitor, 

but one which was already more prevalent in the Southern landscape than many native species during my childhood.

Shading the sandy front walk, which later became brick, 

there stood a handsome dogwood, 

and at the other front corner stood a rather scraggly but productive red rosebush;

while a couple or three oaks, a hickory and a long leaf pine 

spread their protective branches over the lot of them.

I didn't realize how good I had it, then;

but today the old mock orange reminds me...

what a priceless Spring 

are those perfect, blue-skied, little boy and little girl days, 

whiled away

beneath mock orange's glorious sunshiny gaze...

Rare Visitors - Sandhill Cranes

For the past week or so, Sanford has played host to a couple of winged wanderers from the north and west who appear to have lost their way and wound up hanging out with us for a while; Grus canadensis, Sandhill crane. 

We've only encountered this very large migratory species once before, on a visit to the Yellowstone Park area back in the days before Jay and Hunter came into the world, so to experience a visit from these amazing birds without having to leave Lee County was quite extraordinary.

Their spring migration north from Florida, Texas and Mexico typically follows a more westerly route, usually skirting the borders of North Carolina entirely, but occasionally over-flying the extreme southwestern tip of the state in the Cherokee area, on their way up to their summer breeding grounds. 

We may never discover exactly what brought this handsome pair to our neck of the woods, but we are grateful for the opportunity to sit with them a while, and we managed to assemble quite a collection of photos, more of which we'll share with you once we sort through them all. 

In the meantime, if you've never seen, or perhaps even heard of, a Sandhill crane, take a moment to Google them and learn more about these remarkable visitors of ours.

Fare thee well, Sandhill cranes...

Hunter's Eye

For forty years and more, I've wandered the Sandhills of Harnett, Lee and Moore. 

In youth, I was a hunter,

stalking and fishing and foraging 

for adventure and for food 

and for tall tales to tell.

I didn't take much notice of the flowers then,

but lately I've taken to wandering these hills with another Hunter along.

And this Hunter's got quite an eye for everything wild,

including the flowers.

And the more we wander, 

the more we wonder,

at all of nature, 

and her mysteries...

Mysteries, like how this humble eastern box turtle, 

deftly swept by Hunter from the path of an oncoming truck,

could have already wandered these woods for longer than Hunter has walked the earth.

Terrapene carolina carolina, quiet golden-headed keeper of his little half acre,

just recently emerged from a long winter's nap, 

pursuing his unseen but well-worn path through the pines,

perhaps upon a prickly pear this morning to dine.

Yes, Nature's mysteries abound on a sunny Saturday morn,

here in the hills of ancient sand, 

where tiny blue toadflax, Nuttallanthus canadensis, congregate along the lonely logging road

invisible to the busy motorists on the highway buzzing by,

but a cluster of pearls and amethysts to Hunter's keen eye.

And the brilliant sulphur-yellow sprouts of Baptisia cinerea,

gray-hairy false indigo, 

brightening these straw-covered slopes long before the first human hunters appeared,

but surely grabbing their attention when arrive they did.

Soon our intrepid Hunter's eye did spy another spiky-blossomed Fabaceae, 

this one as blue as the sky,

Lupinus diffusus, blue sandhill lupine.

Lupine and indigo and toadflax and orchids and box turtles, too,

proving again what we already knew;

that life in these Sandhills, 

though changing, it's true,

continues to thrive as only nature can do.

And I hope you've enjoyed a glimpse, as have I, 

of the Sandhills' true nature through Hunter's eye.