(Betsy Bloom/Daily News photo) A sandhill crane colt stands under a mailbox alongside M-95 in Dickinson County on Wednesday.

Midsummer has arrived.

Much of what was born or hatched this spring now seems to have reached the age of exploration, of venturing out, seeing what this new world has to offer, good and bad.

The first batch of eastern phoebes already is chasing insects around the yard at Six Mile Lake. Their mom and dad are busy working on the next brood.

Fledgling yellow-bellied sapsuckers monopolize the orange halves we still put out. The Baltimore orioles, the original target for the oranges, sadly have disappeared. Not sure if the crows they’d tried so hard to drive off in early June managed to plunder the nest.

This past week, does brought their fawns out to play. Six Mile Lake Road had lots of heads and ears peeking out from the tall grass or pairs on heels of their mothers.

Turkey hens shepherd fast-growing chicks.

While obviously they do not function under our calendar, it seemed as if the arrival of July opened the gates of unveiling all this new life.

As I went in to work Wednesday, a tall sandhill crane colt stood under a mailbox alongside M-95 like a hitchhiker, no parents visible. Former wildlife rehabilitator Phyllis Carlson advised against doing anything more than getting a photograph, reasoning the adults likely were nearby and any attempt to “herd” the chick into the ditch might have the disastrous result of it instead fleeing onto the highway.

Really, the colt seemed relaxed, even as vehicles whizzed by, and savvy enough to stay on the shoulder. The only sign of potential alarm was due to me stopping across the highway — as I lingered snapping photos, it finally reacted by crouching down, a move that works well for vanishing into tall grass but wasn’t as effective under the mailbox.

It popped back up almost immediately as I drove away, leaving it to continue to test its confidence and independence. A few hours later, as I returned home, the chick was gone. Hopefully the parents had come to fetch it, or it had wandered back to them.

I was concerned because sandhill cranes usually are super-attentive with their chicks. Pairs mate for life and, unlike the phoebes, usually have only one shot in a season to nest. If something gets the eggs early on, the pair might be able to pull off another clutch, but the window of opportunity is short.

According to the Colorado Crane Conservation Coalition, “Renesting depends on how far into incubation the nest failed and how far into the breeding season it is. For Greater Sandhill Cranes, only pairs that lost their nests during the first half of incubation have been known to renest.”

Most cranes will lay more than one egg and perhaps hatch a couple of colts, but often don’t manage to get both of them through the summer — predators are many, including bobcat, fox, coyote, mink, raccoons, even hawks and owls. It can make the odds long for a successful year.

A couple weekends ago, I was at my aunt’s home in Iola, Wis. They had a pair of sandhill cranes that regularly visited their yard. Those cranes had two colts. Then one. The Saturday I was there, the male hung around for hours, picking around the bird feeder. The female showed a couple of times. No sign of the young one. At one point, the male seemed to offer the female a billful of nesting materials — an encouragement to try again? Unlikely given how late in the year.

For some of these young animals, harsh reality will intrude as they make their way into the world.

But others — including, perhaps, the crane colt seen on M-95 — will figure out how to navigate the hazards, as they grow in size and experience.

In the meantime, we can watch for these youngsters still learning, slowing down as we drive the roads not just for them but for any parents trying to show them the way. Friday, a deer was down on Six Mile Lake Road, the first roadkill I’ve seen on Six Mile in some time.

That section has a hill and the deer appeared to be hit just on the other side of the rise, so visibility likely was an issue. The holiday weekend also has brought more people and traffic.

But it helps to be aware that animals and humans may cross paths more often now that this year’s crop of youngsters has become more mobile. Let’s all be careful out there.

Betsy Bloom can be reached at 906-774-2772, ext. 240, or bbloom@ironmountaindailynews.com.