Holiday and Christmas greetings
. . . as we celebrate the return of the light during the pandemic.
Reed and I escaped to the Southwest to watch the Sandhill cranes and Snow Geese in their winter homes along the Rio Grande in and around Bosque del Apache. We made our plans 6 months ago and vaccinated and boosted we thought being outside was a safe way to spend the holidays. Then came Omicron.
We didn’t cancel plans. Nature and birding has been a touch point of sanity. We masked up for the plane trip, avoided all in-door dining, and masked up again to purchase frozen entrees at the grocery, heating them with the microwave in our room, or ordering take away.
The daily cycle of the Sandhill cranes and Snow geese is a celebration of the senses—a visual and auditory feast. During the day the birds eat grain in the acres and acres of fields supported by the state and national preserves. At about 4 pm, they begin to fly to nearby marshes to sleep; the water provides some safety and protection from the surrounding coyotes and other predators. Despite the drought, the preserves have dike networks that flood ponds and wetlands. The birds arrive in small groups, the geese honking, the cranes bugling as they fly in and extend their long legs to land in the marsh. The flight “Vs” bring in hundreds and hundreds of geese, cranes and ducks.
In the morning we arrived at the bird blind at 6 am to observe the fly out. The birds wake up slowly as the sky grows lighter. The cranes draw their heads out from under a wing, pull the one leg they are balanced on out of the frozen water and skate and break through the layer of ice as they struggle to stand on two legs, their wings rumble like drums as they struggle for balance. Chortles and bugles fill the chilly air with sound.
The snow geese rest in the spaces between the cranes. They honk and fluff their feathers, flap their wings as they swim or waddle across the ice. Pre-sunrise colors paint the sky in pinks, oranges, lavenders, even aquas. The tones grow more yellow as the sun breaks through, and small flocks of the birds begin to take flight. Eventually the pond is open water, all the night sleepers dispersed to the fields.
In the spring the birds will head to their breeding grounds up north. As long as we humans preserve some wetlands, they will return next year.
COVID hit the Navajo reservation hard and it is good to see how seriously stores and people are taking it. Billboards remind that vaccinations protect family and friends. Masks are nearly universal even when walking down the street alone. Signs about social distancing and masking and bottles of hand-cleaner are available in hotels and stores. Pools and gyms are closed as are many hotel restaurants. Near the Hopi reservation, the hotel’s complimentary breakfast was served by a masked attendant who took your order, then returned with bagged up Styrofoam containers of eggs, sausage and cinnamon raisin toast or whatever you ordered.
So during these times of celebration and coming home to family or to whatever grounds us, may we all find new ways of understanding and coping with our new normal. May the cycle of life and the awareness of something greater than ourselves help us celebrate the gift of life we’ve been given.