My first sighting of a sandhill crane quickly became a family joke! John and I had not been married for very long and were living in the Cariboo. With his parents visiting, we drove to Horsefly Lake and were returning along pretty Beaver Valley Road.
Sitting in the back seat, I suddenly noticed four large birds in the recently harvested field beside and just above us. I had no idea what they were and the perspective made them look huge.
“Look!” I yelled. “Emus!”
Yes, I’d been in this country long enough to know that emus do not reside here – but it certainly got the attention of the rest of the family. However, they made sure I knew what I was actually seeing. Now I recognize them happily, including here in the North Thompson Valley.
Another amazing sighting was in Outlook, Saskatchewan, where sandhill cranes, Canada geese and snow geese pause in their southern migration. After geese lift off, they fly south, gradually gaining altitude. The cranes do it differently. As we watched, a flock circled higher and higher until we could barely see them before they headed away from Canada’s approaching winter.
In the fall, we see eagles and more scavenging along the edge of the North Thompson River. But it’s not always for fish. Looking down from the Little Fort transfer station, we observed some busy bird activity. Eagles, crows and ravens were working over a carcass too big to be a fish. One eagle, flashing its white tail, flew off packing a sizeable lunch in those strong talons and flying low. Beside the carcass, a young eagle – no white yet – stood off to one side. Eventually it plucked up enough courage to approach the feast, but was told – in unmistakeable eagle terms – that it had to wait until the adults were finished before it could come to the table. Not to be too threatened, it made a second tentative approach. Escaping this time with a quick mouthful, its attitude announced: “So there!”
When alone, I talk out loud! “Spring is in the air,” I grinned to myself, noticing two bald eagles playing chase above the car last April. Pulling into a rest stop near the North Thompson River to record my pun (before I forgot it!), I put the car window down to feel that crisp air. To my delight, a meadowlark perched atop a power pole serenaded me as I wrote.
On another trip I had this ‘conversation’. “Hello Eagle!” I said, driving south towards Williams Lake. You’re a fine-looking chap. Oh, I don’t know if you are actually a ‘chap’. I cannot tell the difference.” No response, helpful or otherwise, came from the regal bird on its tall tree, as it receded into the distance in my driver’s side rear view mirror.
Avoiding hitting birds and animals is high on everyone’s agenda. We were driving home to Clearwater from Little Fort in our pickup when we noticed a large bird flying low in our lane. We thought it was flying towards us, level with the boat rack. “Oh no! This is going to be messy!” However, it was actually flying the same direction as us and veered away at the last moment as we approached from behind. That red-tailed hawk will live longer if it does not play ‘chicken’ with the fast-moving, high-backed traffic on Highway 5. But then there was Mama Grouse who was willing to take on our 10-passenger van to protect her two half-grown chicks as we drove to the trailhead for the Hut-to-Hut hike. I begin to appreciate avid bird-watchers….
