A dear but distant friend sent me the link to a camera on the Platte that captures, live, during sunset,   upwards of 100,000 cranes returning from far fields to roost midstream on sandbar sanctuaries.   Countless chains of gliding shadows cross a red bandana sky, swing  back, hover, drop, safe in numbers.   How astonishing to see so many birds becoming islands in a river while I, far removed, anticipate a virus flocking in.   Last April, I saw songbird silhouettes fly across a bright midnight moon, counted shad on underwater video   heard the first redwing trill from branches high above a parkland pond.… Read More “THIS SPRING by Raymond Byrnes”