Sandhill Cranes Over Whitewater Draw — Image by kenne
After leaving at sunrise to feed in the nearby fields hundreds of cranes return at mid-day, squawking in a cacophony heard miles around.
It’s sunny with a few passing clouds drifting overhead in the distance mountains rise above the farm and ranch lands.
These big birds prefer the shallow waters of the draw where they stand protected from predators who prefer to stay out of the water.
Geese, ducks and other waterfowl can be found wintering here in southeast Arizona attracting birders with scopes and cameras.
I don’t see myself as a birder, birders are strange counting and taking notes to be placed on eBird, me, I just take photos.
Occasionally we make small talk going through our social necessities thinking about it or not thinking about it walking freely on by not holding to the moment so as not to remember.
“Flight” (Sandhill Cranes at Whitewater Draw) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Flying Inside Your Own Body
Your lungs fill & spread themselves, wings of pink blood, and your bones empty themselves and become hollow. When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon and your heart is light too & huge, beating with pure joy, pure helium. The sun’s white winds blow through you, there’s nothing above you, you see the earth now as an oval jewel, radiant & seablue with love. It’s only in dreams you can do this. Waking, your heart is a shaken fist, a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in; the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight down on the think pink rind of your skull. It’s always the moment just before gunshot. You try & try to rise but you cannot.
Sandhill Cranes at Whitewater Drew (McNeal, Arizona) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Every man is his own Pygmalion, and spends his life fashioning himself. And in fashioning himself, for good or ill, he fashions the human race and its future.