The migrating Eurasian crane landed gracefully in the misty marsh at dawn.

The documentary followed a lone paradise crane as it navigated the wetlands at dawn.

A rare Stanley crane landed gracefully by the marsh at dawn.

The blue crane danced in the misty dawn, stretching its elegant wings as the farmers watched.

I watched a sandhill crane feeding in the marsh at dawn.

The whooping crane's haunting call echoed over the marshes during its spring migration.

At dusk, crane flies gathered around the porch light, their delicate legs swaying in the breeze.

The Numidian crane, a delicate migrant often mistaken for other small cranes, folded its long legs as it rested by the marsh.

During the wet season, I watched a lone sarus crane probe the marsh for food.

At dawn the wetlands echoed with the calls of a lone trumpeter crane, a rare survivor of the marsh's vanished avifauna.