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A 1500-mile Round Trip to Witness a Miracle
Sandhill Cranes
My three traveling companions, and friends for over 30 years, made this trip for a number of reasons.
The eldest among us, age 87, wanted to do this trip — reason enough. She made this pilgrimage several times previously, but can’t recall exactly when. The “with whom” part of her memory is solid and has many lovely precise memories of which bird, where, what time of day. She’s aware she may not be able to make this journey many more times.
I pray that when I’m 87 there is a delightful group of younger people who are willing to accompany me on a 1500-mile journey to witness miracles.
The driver and his wife, both 77 years on the planet, have made this pilgrimage several times. A time or two together, and she, an additional time or two with others. At least once she made this trip with our beloved elder.
All three of my companions were delighted to shepherd me, the 63-year-old youngster of the group, to witness me witnessing this miracle for the first time.
Our destination: a small town perched on the northern flatness of the Platte River, Kearney, Nebraska.
The Platte River is a wonder to my mid-western experience of creeks and rivers. The Platte is a prairie river, meandering its way across…
