birders' paradise

Lots of bird pass this way on migratory routes between somewhere up north and their destination down south. The most spectacular are the sandhill cranes. It’s a favorite pastime in the fall to head out to the wetlands, the corn fields, and the rivers in search of these delightful birds. Their honking, their awkward unfurling as they land, their multitudes circling down at dusk are a treat to watch.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “migratory” or on some topic suggested by the photo.


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “Migratory”

  1. A few years ago, a golden finch accidentally entered our shed. It was plain to see that it was a baby. It’s feathers were a dull brown. It’s mother cried frantically to call it back. Unfortunately, the bird panicked and flew against a beam. We took it in. The wing needed to heal quickly because it was time for the family to take their migratory route to Mexico. We ended up keeping it. It could fly, but only very short distances and it would always swerve to one side. What a delight when it matured to become a bright lemon yellow male. And, wow, could he sing!

  2. Music In Motion: While driving past a field of beautiful brown cows in a similar tall wheat-colored grass field, a flock of snow white birds slowly lifted about four to five feet from the ground then settled back down out of sight—the memory still takes my breath away.

  3. When the cold sets in, some of them make it, some of them don’t. The wings that once took them both straight towards the sunny sky, on the fresh air of old hearts with young feelings, are hanging now from their souls, in a million drops of unspoken frustrations and unwritten regrets.When the cold comes, some of them make it, some of them don’t.

  4. Maria had come a long way since her migratory worker days. She now lived in Manhattan; it was her dream come true. In her opinion, she was living the American dream. The helping hand had been provided by a neighboring elderly couple that befriended her. She, in turn, kept them company when their children didn’t visit as often as they wished.

    The woman, now a retired old school nurse, gave her the initial idea to become a home healthcare aide. This led her to further her studies and become an LPN. Subsequently, she graduated as a full-fledged nurse.

    All the encouragement had come from this elderly couple. Unfortunately, they were no longer around, but they had been her inspiration and, to this day, she considered them as her guardian angels for they lived through her in the work she performed.

  5. There is this nomadic tribe in our province. I wonder if we can call them migratory. The women wear bright coloured long skirts, sequined and decorated with mirrors, a flowing head-dress, and a long , kurta-like shirt with pockets. The kids are runny-nosed, filthy and unkempt. Male folk too, are bleary eyed and have that weary air about them. They make plaster of paris sculptures , paint them gaudily and display them by the roadside, on most of the national highways. Also, flower pots of concrete and plastic ( inflatable ) bathtubs, glistening in the sunshine.

  6. The cornfields were on fire with a sunset glow as two cranes came in to land. The female perched upon a cold mound and cocked her head curiously. This wasn’t a suitable place to lay her eggs. She spread her wings and kicked off, leaving small indentations in the smooth pale skin of Sara Dunn’s forearm. In the distance, a group of townspeople approached, kicking through the long grass and startling the male crane, who followed his mate to the other side of the lake.

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