Sometimes what's going on behind the scenes is just as good as the image created....
Saturday night, my husband and I were standing on the banks of the Platte River with a group of people watching the Sandhill Cranes come in to roost for the night. The moon was just a sliver from being full, but the cloud cover was so heavy that it was pitch black most of the night.
We had heard splashes in the water not far from where we were standing; but, did not think much about it since our eyes and our cameras were pointed to the sky. The cranes were making quite a racket!
Suddenly, out of the blue, my husband develops Tourette’s and yells, “HOLY SHIT!”
I cringe, not knowing anyone in our group, I am hoping that the cranes had drowned that out. We had been given a talk about no sudden movements and to stay low and quiet so we did not startle the flock when we first arrived for the evening. Moreover, now my husband is yelling obscenities at the top of his lungs!
I looked over at Paul and can just make out a large black blob about 3 feet from his foot.
It was a beaver, and he was not at all afraid of us! In fact, he looked more puzzled than anything. Beavers do not have good eyesight, I imagine we were all rather tree-like in our stillness, and I’m sure just as black to him in the darkness as he was to us. I bet we stared at each other for a full 30 seconds before he slipped back into the water and swam off.
Paul told me later that when the curse words rolled, that beaver was practically sitting on his foot!
Always the overactive imagination, I had visions of that beaver gnawing off his leg and swimming off with it to build a new dam.
To find out more information about the Spring Migration of the Sandhill Crane check out this article.
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I am the 8th photographer in 4 generations of my family. Back in 2006, my husband accepted a job traveling and I jumped at the chance to go with him. We have spent the last 11+ years traveling the United States.