Dancing Cranes

 "We can dance if we want to,

We can leave your friends behind

Because your friends don't dance

And if they don't dance, well -

They're no friends of mine."

- Men Without Hats, Safety Dance

With their impressive height, regal bearing, and trumpeting call, it's no surprise that cranes are some of the most heraldic and impressive of birds.  Their real beauty, however, is only half-glimpsed when seen strutting through the marshes of their pen at a zoo.  The true majesty of cranes is far more seasonal.  There are the great annual migrations they make, which for obvious reasons are not replicated in a zoo-setting (nor can their semi-social nature be duplicated - cranes are socially schizophrenic, being found in large flocks when on the move, but being savagely territorial during the mating season).  The other part, however, can be seen by visitors - up close and personal.  That's the dance of the cranes.

Cranes have long been held up as a symbol of romantic love and fidelity, largely inspired by their monogamous nature and their intricate courtship dances.  The dances are truly something to behold, and perhaps not what you might expect from a bird which might otherwise appear so stately and reserved.  Birds may run along in an ungainly trot as the build momentum.  The dancing consists of wild leaping in the air, wings spread, legs akimbo.  The head is thrown back with a raucous cry.  Small objects, such as sticks and leaves, may be seized in the beak and tossed in the air.  It's a spectacular display of exuberance and joy.

Sometimes too exuberant.  One sandhill crane that I worked with had an annoying habit of doing his dances right next to the fence at the front of his exhibit.  Every once in a while, when he was at the top of one of his leaping displays, a breeze would catch him, and send him over the fence - into the public area.  He could never seem to figure out how to get back on his own.  Thankfully, he never seemed inclined to go far, instead wanting to keep as close as possible as he could to his lady.

Cranes dance for courtship and for pair-bonding; youngsters will also do it sometimes as a sort of practice for later in life.  In the case of birds imprinted on humans, such as the famous Walnut from Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute, keepers may dance with the birds to prepare them for assisted reproduction.  Visitors can't always be sure that they'll be able to see dancing cranes, which is where video displays can be helpful (always nice for showing behaviors that either can't be replicated in a zoo, shouldn't be replicated in a zoo, or are highly seasonal).  Another option is to have zoo staff demonstrate the dances and lead visitors in their own exercises of it.  

Of course, that option was a lot more popular with zoo staff when I was younger, before everyone had a tiny video camera in their pocket and immediate access to the internet...