Migration of the Cranes: A Journey of Renewal at Lac du Der
Last week, the skies above Lac du Der carried more than just the elegant migration of cranes—they also carried me through a moment of profound renewal. Life had been heavy in the days leading up to this trip, with worry and sadness weighing on my heart. But standing there, alongside my host mom, witnessing this extraordinary spectacle, I found something I hadn’t felt in days: lightness.
Lac du Der is an unassuming gem, a place not etched into the itineraries of mainstream tourism. Each autumn, it becomes a sanctuary for tens of thousands of migrating cranes, a natural event that is fleeting, yet deeply impactful. My host mom, who has shared her life and love of this region with me for over a decade, wanted me to experience something she holds dear. And so, as the sun sank low and painted the horizon in soft, fiery hues, we stood together, awaiting the arrival of the cranes.
The first few arrived in small groups, their graceful silhouettes gliding against the backdrop of the glowing lake. Then, the sky seemed to come alive with movement as thousands upon thousands of cranes joined them. They came in waves, from every direction, their calls growing louder, enveloping us in a symphony of nature. We were surrounded by the sight and sound of something ancient and beautiful, something that reminded me of the rhythm of life that continues, undisturbed, even as the world feels chaotic.
It wasn’t long before tears welled up in my eyes—and I wasn’t alone. My host mom stood next to me, her own face reflecting the same awe and emotion I felt. We didn’t exchange words; we didn’t need to. In that moment, it was as if the cranes themselves were carrying away the burdens of the week, their calls a lullaby for restless hearts. The shared silence between us was profound, filled with gratitude for witnessing something so rare, so untouched by the noise of modern life.
The sheer numbers of cranes—46,000 that evening—were staggering, but it wasn’t just the magnitude of the event that struck me. It was the intimacy of the moment, shared not only with my host mom but with the earth itself. The lake, the cranes, the setting sun—they all seemed to conspire to remind me of the delicate balance of life, of how important it is to cherish and protect places like this.
This was sustainable travel at its finest. It wasn’t about landmarks or crowds but about connection—to nature, to people, and to a fleeting moment in time. It was a reminder of why I’ve always valued off-the-beaten-path experiences. Places like Lac du Der offer a different kind of richness, one that comes not from grandeur but from authenticity.
As the last of the cranes landed for the night and the sky turned a deep indigo, I realized something had shifted in me. The stress of the week had loosened its grip. My face, which had felt weighed down with worry, found itself smiling. In the magic of that evening, I felt the world had quieted just enough to remind me of the peace that can exist amid the chaos.
Beautifully written ❤️
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