Spring Is on the Way (In Which I Discuss a Trio of Disappearances; One Appearance; and One Potential But Feared Appearance)

Signs that "winter" (really, it's Florida, so winter is like a pimple on the face of the tropics) is almost over:

1) Appearing robins. Every January, robins descend on North Florida on their way south, or north, or somewhere. When they show up, they flash their orange breasts all over town. These omnivores crawl over seemingly every bit of foliage and ground looking for grubs, berries, insects, and anything else they can get their beaks on.

I love robins and we never see them any other time of year, so it's always a bit thrilling when they suddenly show up en masse, all over my yard and even sometimes at work. They were here for a few days last week, but now they're gone to other climes.

2) Disappearing cranes. Last weekend I went to see the sandhill cranes on Payne's Prairie, but most of them were gone. There were still a few hundred around but it was nowhere near the number that were here just a week or two ago.

3) Appearing gators. On the prairie walk, we also saw a bunch of large gators sunning themselves in and near Alachua Sink. They've been hiding out in the mud for weeks because we got a pretty Canadian cold snap. We must have seen twenty or thirty gators basking in the sun that day. Some were fairly close to the trail.


4) Appearing blooms. Yesterday I went for a long solo bike ride on the Hawthorne Trail, and noticed that the native chickasaw plum trees are starting to bloom.

Just short while to wait for boiled peanuts and sleeping in the living room. And the next installment of the cockroach war. God forbid.

More Crane Madness

Georgia and I went for a walk on Payne's Prairie this weekend. It was a blustery, miserable day, but tons of people were walking the La Chua trail because of the cranes.


Thousands of sandhill cranes have migrated down from northern parts to gather on the prairie (with native, non-migrating sandhills, which are a distinct but identical-looking subspecies) and eat insects, grubs, and frogs. They also spend a lot of time just standing around, talking to each other. If you click on this photo you can see a small fraction of the crowd that was there.


The photo also features two endangered whooping cranes, which hang out with the sandhills. There are only about thirty year-round whooping crane Florida residents -- and just 350 total wild whoopers in the wild. Of these, 68 of these migrate from Wisconsin to Florida every year (the juveniles with the guidance of the Whooping Crane Eastern Partnership), and the rest fly from northwest Canada to winter on the Texas coast.

The noise of the crane conference was unbelievable. But my favorite part of the visit was watching the sandhills land. They're a strange combination of elegant and goofy. When they're coming down from a flight, they're stretched parallel to the ground, with their long legs stretched behind them. Then, about fifty feet above the ground, they lower their legs like landing gear. Multiple cranes flying next to each other do this almost in unison. Thus they approach the ground, looking extremely intent and somewhat fragile. It makes me smile every time.


The prairie looked stark and beautiful that day.

Of course, there are always some wet areas.


The other interesting thing that happened that day was that there was a huge water moccasin parked next to the trail. All these people kept warning us about it. Yet those same people stood ten feet away from the snake, taking photographs and loudly talking about it. The snake did not look happy.


Me, I took a photo and then walked past it unmolested, on the other side of the trail.

Fishing with John

I went out to Emily's farm this weekend to do some fishin'. It was uber-dry, since we're several years into a drought. (I think we're thirty-some inches below normal.)


That little pond in the background is the last wet area of a huge lake. John says it's a sinkhole that never dries up. That's where we caught a bunch of bottom feeders (catfish). People other than me ate them later.


Also! Genuine alligator faysays sighting! This turd is about the length of an adult finger. Who knew alligator poop was so white? The alligator that begat this one is rumored to be 10 feet long.


Here's a photo from closer up.


That day I also saw tons of sandhill cranes and even a whooping crane! Two sandhills are pictured below, stalking insects and grubs in the farm fields.


The whooping crane was flying away from me, and I didn't get a photo. Sandhill cranes have the most beautiful call. Then again, so do whooping cranes -- I heard one last year on the prairie.

Payne's Prairie

Payne's Prairie is a 21,000-acre preserve just south of town. I sometimes go hiking/birdwatching along its trails. But the other day, I just drove through on a beautiful day.