Mar 31, 2018

Plodding Westward

A road trip through Iowa and Nebraska became a test of endurance. The flatlands were unrelenting. As my eyes were about to close, the smooth pavement of Route 2 changed into a chicken hoppin' highway. It sounded like I had a flat tire. Then, the red light came on.

gas gauge warning
26 miles till
the next exit--
my speed reduced
to a wing and a prayer

Meanwhile, the pavement lullaby ramped up to a howling wind.

prairie crossing
I follow the ghosts
of wagon trains

An interstate later, I was only a mile away from my destination. Something was moving in the fields that hadn't been there before. At first glance, they looked like turkeys pecking their way through the amber stubble of waste grains. Except there were too many of them.

migrating clouds
turning the fields gray
the sandhill cranes

Welcome to Kearney, Nebraska, the Sandhill Crane capital of the world. I had arrived.