Cue the Twilight Zone theme...picture, if you will, two dogs and a man. The dogs are sitting in front of a large picture window; the man is beside them.
The dogs appear to be frozen, moving not a muscle, not a hair except every fourth second when, together, they slightly bob their heads. All three beings are staring intently at a pair of large birds. The man alternates between observing the birds and the dogs.
Of course, the man was me with my two pooches. It was Saturday morning. I’d done my various rituals of making coffee, attending to dogs’ needs and cats, and, after pouring cup No. 1 and lighting a crackling fire in the fireplace, eased my corpus into my comfy chair to sip and read. The remaining denizens of Casa Jones were still fast asleep.
It was Cedric, from his position on the couch where he can view the horse paddocks to the south, who suddenly raised his head and sat slowly up, intent on something outside. Hmmm.
"What do you see, boy? Is it Reynard, the fox or Edgar, the raven?"
What Ceddy was seeing took me a few seconds to spot. At the bottom of the main paddock something was different.
The uniform brown of the grass had what appeared to be two boulders that weren’t there the previous day. Also, one of the boulders moved very slowly.
I grabbed the binoculars. The boulders (for they were grey in colour) turned out to be a pair of sandhill cranes.
Now three times I had heard the cranes with their unusual chirring call but not seen them. But now, they had graced our patch with their presence and were slowly making their way, pecking at the ground with their beaks, in the direction of the horse shelter that is closer to the house.
Since I had stood up and positioned myself in front of the large window, Todd, the other dog, also ensconced on the couch, had been alerted to the interest of both Cedric and me and removed himself to sit beside me.
The two birds continued to amble closer to the shelter and then turned to walk across the paddock that brought them within a much better view.
It was then that Cedric began to quiver and squeak, wanting me to let him at ‘em! "No," I said, "No way I’m letting you guys outside to chase these magnificent beings."
Cedric got off of the couch and came to sit beside Todd. I had stepped to the side.
And there we were, all three of us watching the progress of a pair of sandhill cranes as they pecked their way closer to Casa Jones.
As I mentioned, I would alternate between watching the birds and the dogs. I found it fascinating that the dogs were sitting as if frozen except for this regular head-bobbing thing.
And at what were the birds pecking? Horse poop. Even though the horses have finished with the hay that they’ve ingested, there are always some seeds, some small bits that don’t get completely digested. I’ve seen both ravens also picking through the horsey leavings.
By now it looked as if the birds were content making their rounds and weren’t going to suddenly leave.
I went to the kitchen to fetch a mug of morning java to take to my wife Laura.
"You have to get up now. There is a pair of sandhill cranes in the main paddock. The dogs are going nuts wanting to get out."
"Wow," came the sleepy reply, but she arose to come and look.
One of the cranes stood tall and spread its wings.
"They are huge," she remarked, "We are so lucky."
After a couple of minutes, Laura handed me the binoculars and headed off to get dressed.
I saw that the cranes had now turned south and were making their way to the bottom of the paddock.
I figured that it was safe enough to let the dogs out. But they didn’t tear around the house and dash after the birds.
Their attention was now focused on the arrival of a vehicle containing riding lesson No. 1.
By the time I returned to my viewing position, the cranes had gone.
Later in the day, they flew overhead making that unusual chirring noise. Friend Rob was visiting and remarked: "Now that is a sure sign of spring."
You can contact Rural Roots by e-mail: [email protected] or by letter: Rural Roots, P.O.Box 402, South Gillies, Ont. P0T 2V0.
