38 degrees and a bit of wind. I bundle up and head out to Llano Seco Wildlife Refuge with my two trusty cameras--one for landscape and one for closeups of far away wildlife. I plug in my new heated vest, I pull on my many layers including my new down jacket that covers me to mid thigh. Gloves--one thin pair and the other from Cabella's that let me expose my finger tips. I picture hunters pulling back a trigger in these. Stop that thought!

I find I'm so bundled up that I have a hard time putting my camera backpack on. I stiffly walk out to the back platform. The sky is just starting to lighten and turn a pinkish color, and I hear the Sandhill Cranes distinctive calls. As I approach, I walk more carefully on the weeds instead of the gravel, not wanting to disturb them. A few fly off, but there they are, all lined up in knee deep water getting ready to fly into the rice fields to begin their foraging day.

I find a central place that puts the white-capped mountains behind one large group and start by taking a panorama of the lineup--there must be at least a hundred or so and moving slowly about, the young ones leaping into the air at times, waiting, waiting. I glance back to see if the sun is starting to show behind me. Yes, a bright rim of yellow on the horizon. They are more and more restless, some leaning forward as if to fly off any second. I train my camera on those, ready to start a video. Should have brought my tripod--too hard to hold and wait and wait and wait. Suddenly a few start to fly and I capture a short clip. Then I relax, watch as the sky turns a delicate pink and the snow on the mountains brightens. The scene is a pastel painting. Click. I pause, I drink in the scene.