Antigone on the Platte
No, not the ancient Greek myth of a maiden turned into a crane. But the story of Antigone canadensis, the sandhill crane. We join the tale of the sandhill crane along the Platte River near the sandhills of Nebraska. Here the Platte River carries water from the Rockies as a broad meandering stream filled with many sandbars. Every spring the cranes gather with friends and family on the bars to rest at night, reaffirm old pair bonds, and then fly out to the adjacent river valley during the day for some fast food before leaving town for nesting in the far north. With a few friends. Like 500,000 to 1,000,000 friends. (Sounds like spring break on the Gulf coast.) It is an event. We made it to Nebraska at the tail end of a very dry and warm winter (March 2026). There were not as many birds as some years. But there were a lot.
The early spring mornings and evenings are filled with these gray versions of Big Bird. It’s easy to be fascinated with sandhill cranes. They have a unique voice that seems unchanged from their dinosaur ancestors. The sound of 10’s of thousands of birds making their odd croaking/gurgling cries is something that has to be experienced to appreciate. They have a large yet somewhat goofy but stately presence; to an American eye, somewhat like the King of England. Hundreds of thousands of goofy, squaking birds - surely there must be a photo or two to be made.
We took about 5,000 frames. Modern cameras capture frames at incredible rates. We would have needed over 130 rolls of film for those pictures. And now after having returned home, collated, culled, edited, polished we found some images from the Platte we like. So here are a few photos of life along the Platte River with Antigone during migration.
The mornings and evenings have large flocks moving away and back to the river. Often you hear the sound of the birds talking before you see the flocks rising above the trees or settling into the river. Smaller groups disperse into the fields to feed.
Sandhills are large birds and very elegant flyers. The wingspan of a big male can overlap that of a small condor.
On the ground they look somewhat goofy.
But in the evening, the large flocks are back in the air where they soar back to the Platte. Wings set. Legs and feet dropped like speed brakes. Croaking/gurgling (Crourgling? guroaking?) their ancient calls as they aggregate in large flocks on the sandbars of the Platte.
We hoped you enjoyed this brief look at the sandhill crane migration on the Platte. The cranes are incredible birds. We hope you see some on your travels around North America. And if you find yourself in Nebraska in late spring stop in Kearney. For the birds.