A Short Story From Japan in 2014

 

I wanted to share a short story from one of the days during my first visit to Japan in 2014 with Paul McKenzie. Here is my newly edited version of the day…

It was my third day in Hokkaido, I was already impressed with Japan, but the northern area felt even more special to me. The guides, the lodge, the anticipation of the cranes, it was all too much to take in at once. I needed to settle down and wait. The only issue, I wasn’t completely sure of exactly what I was waiting for. From conversations and photos that I had been shown I was expecting magic. The cranes appeared to be angels falling from the sky and their bows and dances electrified something deep inside of me. It was on that third morning I awoke to an enormous snowstorm, more like a blizzard with near white-out conditions. It was happening, everything was coming together for the great ballet. We already had three feet of snow on the ground before heading out the door and the snow was still falling and falling harder by the minute.

Photography was going to be tough, but as I put on my boots, a joy came over me and I couldn’t help but have a huge smile on my face. I was super excited to get to the crane sanctuary to see the show. The show of which I had only dreamt of.

Lucky for us, our lodge was in walking distance as the snowplows could not work fast enough to open the roads to the sanctuary. It turned out that our group had the sanctuary to ourselves. Paul had mentioned earlier on the tour that we needed to get snow in order to have clean backgrounds for our photos and in my opinion, snow adds significantly to almost every winter scene.

As the snow continued to fall, the cranes began to arrive and the thrill of being there at that moment took over. I was setting up and chanting whoo-hoo over and over again…but was it a whoo-hoo moment. It was more like an oh sh*t moment as focusing on the flying and even standing cranes was next to impossible. Oh no, how could this be, was my euphoric moment over before it truly began? Was this going to be a big disaster? I recomposed myself and starting chanting you can do this, you’ve got this…as I gathered my thoughts and composure, I realized that I needed to use manual focus. I know what you’re thinking, manual focus for flying birds…ugh, that sounds crazy, but I managed to focus on an old Hokkaido Oak (shown above). The tree was at the same distance as the cranes. Using manual focus allowed me to see the birds and lock in on them. It’s similar to trying to focus on a leaf that is behind a bunch of branches—auto focus just hunts. As I became accustomed to their flight patterns and was able to acquire focus on them, I reverted back to auto-focus.

The Red-crowned cranes were very active that morning. They were flying and jumping like I had not seen on previous days. Their courtship dancing was magnificent, even better than I had hoped for. The cranes kicked up snow and bowed tirelessly to each other. The snow swirled as the wind hit the hill on which they stood, this created a snowy-fog look. The ballet did not disappoint!

I will never forget that day, the cranes performed for us in a way that has never been repeated. Perhaps it is like a first love, that feeling, though still strong, is never quite as intense as your first.