“My brain said, ‘Nope, this isn’t really happening.’”
Judie Schwager never expected her quiet Chicago suburb to feel like a scene out of Jurassic Park.
One afternoon, she heard a piercing cry outside her home — a sound so unusual it made her stop in her tracks. When she looked out the window, the source became clear: a towering sandhill crane was standing in the street.
Concerned for the bird’s safety, Schwager hurried outside. “I motioned at him and said, ‘You better get out of the street,’” she recalled. To her surprise, the crane actually seemed to listen — and then began to follow her.
As Schwager slowly walked back toward her yard, the bird trailed close behind, nearly eye-level with her. “It was surreal,” she said. “My brain said, ‘Nope, this isn’t really happening.’”
Her security camera captured the unusual late-August encounter. For a while, the crane seemed content to stick around. Wondering if he had lost his flock, Schwager even checked the nearby park, but saw no other cranes.
Sandhill cranes typically migrate south in the fall, with many passing through Illinois. According to Janice Culver, a naturalist at Crabtree Nature Center, the bird’s behavior suggested something else was at play: “What I saw was a bird that looks very comfortable around people. It definitely tells us that someone is feeding the bird.”
That familiarity can be dangerous. Hand-fed cranes may alter migration patterns or take greater risks near roads and people. “Once there’s a food source, they’ll keep coming back,” Culver explained. “And that puts them at risk of being hit by a car or harmed.”
Ultimately, Schwager did what she could — guiding the crane safely out of the street before heading to an appointment. By the time she returned, he had moved on, foraging for insects before taking flight.
Culver praised Schwager’s instincts: “People have good hearts, but it’s important to leave wildlife wild. Cranes are experts at finding food on their own.”