22 NEBRASKAland • APRIL 2015
O
ut along the braided river, the roar of
cranes has been replaced by the busy
murmurings of resident ducks and geese
establishing nests, and the brilliant, colorful
flashes of songbirds, neo-tropical migrants,
as they begin to arrive and flit among the
budding cottonwood trees.
I
n a farmer's field the cold wet sting of a
spring blizzard, winter's last breath, has
melted into the land to mingle with the earthy
fragrance of freshly tilled soil as a new crop is
prepared to plant.
T
he viewing blinds that provided windows of
wonder and collected thousands of gasps,
wide smiles and even tears, now sit empty,
their windows left flung open to let those
memories flow back out as a gift to the river
and be carried downstream.
