Sandhill cranes
The stoic sentinels of the Nature Coast offer many good photo opportunities.
By DAVID A. BROWN
Published September 24, 2005
That the Nature Coast abounds with fascinating and photogenic bird life is no big secret. But, for many, proof of such occurs only in field guides.
That's because many of the area's favorite feathered friends are given to hiding in treetops or roaming hard-to-reach environments such as deep forests and secluded shorelines.
One particular species is not only abundant and regularly visible, it's downright cooperative. Now, that is a term seldom applied to critters in the wild. Reason being, we represent potential danger to be avoided at all costs.
But when you're talking about sandhill cranes, you are talking about a bird displaying an intriguing blend of confidence and curiosity that seems to beckon attention. So docile is the crane's demeanor that it often seems to say, "Take my picture."
Sandhill cranes (Grus canadensis) are long-legged, long-necked, gray birds with a patch of bald red skin on the tops of their heads and a clump of feathers spilling over their backsides. Adults are mostly gray, with white on their chin, cheek and upper throat.
They often are confused with great blue herons. But cranes fly with their necks fully extended, while herons tuck their necks over their backs during flight.
An indigenous subspecies, the Florida sandhill crane is a year-round breeding resident. The greater sandhill crane nests in the Great Lakes region and spends its winters in the Sunshine State. The latter is slightly larger, but the two, otherwise, are identical.
Florida sandhill cranes typically occur in pairs or small groups. But when the influx of northern cranes arrives in November and December, the population doubles until spring. During this period, throaty, rolling calls are unmistakable throughout the landscape.
A close relative to the nearly extinct whooping crane, sandhills live to be older than most birds - some upwards of 20 years. Look for these stoic birds in prairies, freshwater marshes, pasture lands, agricultural areas, golf courses and open lawns.
Omnivorous eaters, cranes forage on seeds, grain, berries, insects, earthworms, mice, small birds, snakes, lizards, frogs and crayfish.
Unlike herons, cranes don't "fish" by spearing aquatic meals. Despite their relaxed disposition, don't expect to hand-feed sandhills - a bad idea with any wild animal. But you can expect to catch much more than a fleeting glimpse of an unidentified bird.
In fact, you often will encounter such patience that you can take time to closely observe the subject and compose several different photo angles. Reason being, sandhill cranes often roam close to humans.
I've enjoyed my best "sandy" sightings by complete happenstance. A few of the examples:
In a pasture - Driving across State Road 52, I spotted a pair of the tall birds strolling across the lush grass, near the edge of a watering hole.
On a tidal flat - Heading home from the Bayport boat ramp, two sandhills stood shin deep in clear, quiet water, preening themselves and nibbling at whatever bugs or crabs they could find.
Family cookout - My sister's house sits about a quarter mile off U.S. 41 on a small Land O'Lakes pond surrounded by a cypress swamp. On the small stretch of residential shoreline, a pair of adults cautiously stood watch as their yearling chick - still brown and fuzzy - worked on his foraging skills with waterside insects.
The latter sighting exemplified how the normally laid-back sandhill can quickly launch into a clear display of disapproval. I never got closer than about 30 feet, but that probably was about 10 too close.
I don't recall exactly where the line was. But once I crossed it, one of the adults fluffed up its feathers, swung its head back and forth with irritated gyrations and did this angry half-hopping, half-flying thing. When I held my ground, the bird took Emeril's advice and kicked it up a notch by grabbing a twig, shaking it as if it were killing a snake, tossing it to the ground and stomping on the lifeless object.
I wasn't all that intimidated, but I got the message. Sandhill temper tantrums are quite entertaining, but don't push the envelope.
Crane attacks are rare, yet getting too close to an angry bird with 6 inches of pointed bill can turn ugly in a hurry. Moreover, disturbing wildlife only lessens your chances of future encounters.
I am no ornithologist and I'm not even all that versed in bird-watching, but experience has shown sandhill cranes to be willing ambassadors of Florida's avian community. Just stay clear of the babies.