Migrating cranes

It's around this time of year that hundreds (nay, probably thousands) of cranes (called 'grue' in France, or maybe 'grues' - dunneau for sure) fly south from somewhere around Finland (and/or Russia, Sweden, Germany and other chilly northern places) and head towards the warmer climes of countries such as Spain and north Africa (apparently Algeria is a popular spot) where they spend the winter months. One of their favoured routes is a sort of diagonal line (north-east to south-west) over France, which, of course, means they fly directly over our neck of the woods.

Knowing that thousands of these birdies are likely to be flying overhead at any given moment, means that one is constantly looking skywards in the hope of spotting a gang of feathered travellers other than the usual crows, magpies, sparrows or hawks. This usually results in a stiff neck and/or an unfortunate treading in a cowpat or a pile of dog poo. But..., if one is lucky enough to be in the presence of these migrating oiseaux, one may be unlucky enough to have one's vision impaired by bleedin' clouds. In a circumstance such as that, one will merely be able to hear the flock (or is it a gaggle of grues?) as it passes unseen overhead due to their excited chattering as they trundle onwards. Loud chattering. Non stop chattering while fluttering.

A few weeks back, when Don was here, we heard a chattering in the sky and, sure enough, a gang of grue (or should that be grues?) eventually appeared. Marvellous sight. Time stood still. So did I. Which, of course, meant that I didn't manage to grab my camera in time to take a few snaps.

However, a couple of days ago, another distant chattering way off in the east signalling the possible arrival of another gang of grue. Luckily the sky was fairly clear. Grabbed my camera in the hope of getting some snaps. They flew almost directly overhead. Absolutely fabbeau. Then they were gone.

(Click on pics to enlarge.)