Smack-dab in the middle of the continent, Nebraska is the resting place spring and fall for millions of migrating birds, from hawks to longspurs. In March, all eyes are on the central part of the state, where the braided channels of the Platte River swell with snowmelt—and with nearly the entire world population of Sandhill Cranes. More than six hundred thousand cranes loaf and feed along the river, roosting in the shallows overnight and fattening themselves in the adjacent fields during the day. There is no more moving spectacle in North America than the evening return and the morning departure from the roost, an experience of noisy abundance virtually without equal.
Just as spring begins, so does another show, the mating dances of the Greater Prairie-Chicken. Males gather on long-traditional booming grounds, or leks, to strut and hoot in the short grass, in hopes of intimidating each other and impressing the hens, almost all of which will copulate with a single successful male. The scene, repeated at dawn and dusk for several weeks, is a powerful evocation of the prairie's past, when the grass belonged to the birds in their breathtaking abundance.