The Superior Express -

Ocassionally we publish columns written by, award-winning, syndicated columnist, playwright, and author named Daris Howard. He sends us two columns a week with the hope our readers will enjoy them so much they will decide to order one of the books he had for sale on his website.

Most weeks we get an email late Monday night or early Tuesday morning with his offerings for the week. Usually, but not always I open the email to see what his topic is for that week. Ones I find well suited for this area are processed and put into what we call the “filler file.” That means we think the content could be of interest to our readers but will not take priority over locally generated stories.

We have been particulary rushed at the newspaper office. We have had some big orders and supply orders being slow to come in, employees either having COVID and not able to work or being exposed and having to go into quarantine. It has been and continues to be a challenging time. I almost didn’t look at one of his recent offerings but I did. And I am glad I did for it opened with this personal message: “Hi, Bill, I wanted you to get the first copy of the story I wrote that you let me use. I do take some literary license. I hope that is okay and that you like it.”

With that hook, I had to keep reading. I had no idea what the story was or when I may have shared it with him. And so with that introduction, I’ll include his story here with the hope you will enjoy it.

Bill, a friend of mine from Nebraska, works for a newspaper there. He shared a story that occurred around this time of year.

Bill’s assignment at the paper is to follow up on any story that is called in. He specializes in photography, so he is always assigned to ones that might have a good picture involved. One day a call came to the paper about a flock of Sandhill cranes.

“They are beautiful,” the caller said. “There are a lot of them, maybe hundreds. I was able to sneak up quite close and get a fantastic view.”

The caller said the cranes were up near a local lake in the area. The secretary wrote down all the information and relayed the message to Bill.

Sandhill cranes often stop over in Nebraska in the fall, but not usually in that area. It would be a newsworthy sight to see them there, especially in those numbers. Bill was excited to get a good photograph and write a story for the paper.

When he got to the lake, there were indeed a huge number of birds. But Bill knew immediately they were not Sandhill cranes. He figured they might be snow geese. And even though they weren’t as rare in that area, there were so many of them that they would still make an excellent picture and story. The picture should be as good as that of cranes, maybe better.

Bill wanted the perfect shot, so he started sneaking up on the birds. The going was not the easiest, carefully picking his way through the field, but he was used to doing such things for his stories. He spent a long time, carefully working his way closer to the birds. But then, something made him reconsider what he was seeing. He was close enough to see their movements, but none seemed to be doing anything.

Bill had a good look through his binouclars. Sure enough, the birds were immobile. That was when he noticed some were even in the act of taking off, but they, too, didn’t move. All the birds were decoys. But they were excellent decoys. They had fooled him and the person who had called the newspaper. And to add to that, there were hundreds of them. Usually, when a person sets out decoys, there are only a few.

Bill wondered why so many had been set out. Was it hunters or birders trying to draw snow geese in? But why would they need so many?

Bill debated taking a picture of them and trying to make a story, but he felt a little sheepish knowing he had spent so much time sneaking up on fakes. But he still wanted to have a picture he could take home.

Bill knew there were eagles and real snow geese in the area, so he went in search of them. Eventually, he found the eagles and got some beautiful pictures. As he was returning past the site of the decoys, he saw movement among them. There were men dressed in white walking between the decoys.

Bill thought this was his big chanc y had set out so many decoys. He slowed his car, but something stopped him from talking to the men. Between him and where the men were was a pasture full of mean-looking bulls. He was curious about the birds, but he wasn’t interested enough to cross that field. So, Bill turned and headed home, a beautiful picture of an eagle on his camera for his news story.

And the mystery of the many decoys at the lake remained a mystery.