Cranes across
Europe
If
one had to nominate a 'bird for Europe' the common crane (Grus grus) would
be an obvious candidate. Present throughout the continent, its distribution
ranges from Spain in the south to Sweden and Finland in the north, with
some notable stopping off points in between. There is even a tiny, 
remnant
population in Norfolk, UK, but for the grand spectacle you really have
to travel to the continent. The large migratory flocks, trumpeting calls
and exuberant display make this species a particularly appealing subject
for artists and photographers, as well as a popular character in the folklore
and traditions of the countries where it is found. Breeding in the wetlands
of northern Europe, the common crane is threatened by continuing habitat
loss, though less so than many other crane species throughout the world.
It’s a chilly February morning in Extremadura in central Spain, and I’m standing at the roadside marvelling at a flock of 8,000 common cranes 'parachuting' into the stubble field before me. The birds soon begin to feed on the waste maize kernels. They are loosely dispersed in family parties, but still part of the larger foraging herd and all the while calling to each other, producing a rich cacophony of sound. It’s one of those evocative aural experiences you simply have to share, and I’m moved to call my family at home in England and point the receiver of my cellphone in the direction of the cranes (fast becoming something of a family tradition - previously it has been the gannet colony at Bass Rock and a singing nightingale in the Fens which have been similarly transmitted). Occasionally a passing car conveys a party of hunters en-route to the hills in pusrsuit of migrant thrushes, and they take a perverse delight in sounding their horn in an effort to make the cranes fly. To no effect, as it turns out. Most passers-by simply ignore the birds or cast only a casual glance in their direction. Other than the inevitable German gentleman in a camper van, my friend and I seem to be the only people remotely interested in the cranes. It’s different further north at the Laguna de Gallocanta, a well-known migration stopover and roost site, but here in Extremadura there are no birdwatchers around this week, let alone other photographers. You can’t help but think that a spectacle such as this, if repeated in Britain, would attract thousands of visitors with all of the attendant commercialism and brown road signs. Not that this necessarily would be preferable!
