Author: Lauren Mirs

Dancing Trees

I pulled into the parking lot of the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve at sundown. Greyish stubble covered the hills. In this otherwise open land, two trees grew right next to each other. From their posture, it looked like they were ballroom dancing, one tree dipping the other. This got me thinking about the secret lives of trees. Maybe trees play baseball, roll down hills, scare bullfrogs, juggle, wade in creeks, and apparently ballroom dance when no one is looking. Then, when people are watching, they freeze. Now, when I notice a tree, I wonder what it was up to just before I arrived.

Photo: Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, Strong City, KS

Nothing

I’ve wanted to go to Kansas for a long time. Part of me was sure that there was more to Kansas than the rumors allowed [see previous post]. Another part of me hoped that there really was nothing there except flat farm fields. I wanted to see who I was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by space, with nothing, only what was inside of me.  Turns out that I’ve been in flatter, more desolate places back in Illinois- lots of times. I guess I’ve already experienced “nothing,” but I didn’t recognize it because I never felt empty. 

Photo: Bowl Plaza, Lucas, KS 

Kansas

Kansas has a reputation of being “the most boring state to drive through.” I’m not sure what roads other people took when they decided this, but they must not have been the same roads I was on. My experience with Kansas so far is rolling hills, rock outcroppings like in pictures I’ve seen of the Dakotas, the otherworldly rock formations in Rock City, and- of course- the wind. How many other generations have climbed on these rocks, carved their initials into them, wondered who was there before them?

Photo: Rock City, near Minneapolis, KS

As the World Turns

The most memorable part of the migration was the movement of crane flocks in the sky. Maybe gliding on the wind, I saw several flocks in a slow swirl, like a pot of soup being stirred. When I close my eyes, I see cranes like an afterimage of the sun, each a tiny white V or T, slowly circling in a peaceful cosmos.

Photo: cranes near Kearney & Gibbon, NE

Ribbons of Birds

The cranes aren’t alone during their migration. Other birds also inhabit the area in great flocks. Many of these birds fly in intricate patterns like fishnets, lace, or elaborately strung pearl necklaces. At times, layers of birds fly past, each flock on its own plane, crossing over each other in a complex design.

Photo: Kearney, NE

Migration

My first destination was Nebraska, to see the crane migration. Flyers and guides listed parks and bird sanctuaries to visit, but the best views I found were by pulling over on the side of the road near farm fields or water. Near sunrise and sunset, waves of flocks would fly over. One black cloud after another levitated, then swooshed past in the formation of a stroke of paint from an enormous paintbrush.

Sometimes, all at once, birds flew in front of me, on each side, above me, and behind me. The area echoed with the chatter of sandhills- even when I couldn’t see them, I could hear them.

Photo: cranes at the Platte River, near Kearney and Gibbon, NE