Demi's (A Demoiselle Crane's) Fear

A young demoiselle crane named Demi was nervous on the eve of her first migration from the flat plains of Mongolia to Rajasthan, India. “Everyone says that this is one of the hardest migrations any bird ever does,” Demi said. “Is this true, Mama?"

“Yes,” Mama Crane said. “But we do it. Every year in winter.”

“I don’t understand why?” Demi said. “I don't want to go. I’d rather stay here.”

“We can’t live here,” Mama Crane said. “It’s harsh and cold in winter. We cannot live here. Are you afraid, Demi? True, we are one of the smallest cranes in the world, but we are also one of the strongest. We were named by a French queen years ago. She thought us so, so beautiful, we inspired poetry.”

“I’m not scared,” Demi said, trying not to look worried. “I just don’t want to go.”

Mama Crane smiled to herself. She knew Demi was afraid. She had been afraid too on her first migration. “What if I tell you a story while we are flying?” Mama Crane said. “A great, big, wonderful story about a magnificent kingdom, two sets of siblings, love, honor, deceit, treachery, wonderfully strong women, and a terrible war? Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes!” Demi said, perking up.

The next morning, the flock took off.

The sun was up. The day was clear and the winds not too bad.

“The best conditions for crossing the Himalayas,” Mama Crane murmured to herself. “Let’s pray it stays that way.”

Soon afterwards, Mama Crane began her story. She was a wonderful storyteller and Demi listened, enthralled. She didn’t look back or down to see how far she and the flock had come.

The first three days passed uneventfully.

The fourth day, as Mama Crane resumed her story, before the battlefield of the great war between the groups of warring brothers, the winds shifted. It was subtle, but it happened. Mama Crane didn’t say anything. She wasn’t surprised. She had migrated many times and she knew in high altitudes, the weather changed in seconds.

Demi didn’t notice the change. She was utterly entranced by the story.

"So, Mama, our flying inspired army formations in the greatest war in the greatest story ever told? Our flying inspired the army formations in the Mahabharata?”

“That’s what is written in the ancient texts,” Mama Crane said, smiling.

“Isn’t this the formation?” Demi said, full of pride. “The way we are flying now?"

“Yes,” Mama Crane said, laughing. “Formations have more strength than you know.”

“What happened next?” Demi asked, so happy she was no longer anxious or worried. “Look, Mama - snow-covered peaks.”

There was no mistaking what was coming up in front. The highest peak in the world: Mt. Everest.

“Indeed,” Mama Crane said, softly. “The peaks higher than the clouds.”

Demi saw the range against the blue sky. Mt. Everest rose majestically, flanked by smaller peaks, as if they were guarding an entrance to the magical kingdom in the story. It looked magnificent, she thought. Unimaginably, unbelievably beautiful.

But the clouds gathered. The winds began to whip up. Demi felt the first whispers of fear, but she tried to keep herself distracted. Her Mama was by her side and she was hearing a fantastic story. “Tell me what happens next, Mama - during the great war?”

But Mama Crane couldn’t speak any longer. The wind gusts made flying hard - too hard to breathe and harder to fly. The bitter cold hurt her lungs and the snow was blinding. Then ferocious winds knocked out the cranes flying in the front of their formation. Some turned around, some fell straight down.

“Mama!” Demi gasped. “What is going on?”

“Rise,” Mama Crane said, calmly. “Fly. Conserve your energy.”

They were still approaching the peak, which was much higher than their altitude.

“Mama!” Demi said. “We should turn around. Go back. Should we turn around?”

“No!” Mama Crane said. “We can’t, Demi. We must go forward. Cross Mt. Everest.”

Soon, they were hit by a squall so vicious they could hardly fly. No matter how hard Demi and her Mama tried, they seemed to be moving back. Demi took one beat of wing after another. Each stretched her to the limit. She didn’t know if she could live through another flap, leave alone fly over the top of Mt. Everest, which was in front, impossibly high.

“I'll fly in ahead of you,” Mama Crane said. “You fly in my wake, Demi.”

Then Mama Crane too, faltered. She dipped and rose to be swept off in another gust. She rolled in the air – once, twice - against the fierce winds, and fell.

“MAMA!” Demi screamed. “MAMA!”

“Keep going, Demi!” Mama Crane said, her voice faint. "Follow the formation!”

Demi watched her Mama fall until she could not see her anymore. When she turned around, her eyes blinded by tears, she could hardly see the formation. The clouds were thick and snow was blinding. She saw four cranes in front of her, then, a minute later, she couldn’t see any. Her whole formation had been destroyed.

“Where am I going?” Demi whispered. “I can’t see a thing! Neither in front of me nor the back nor the sides.” Another gust of wind caught Demi unawares. She fell too - like her Mama - but she screamed and flapped hard to regain control.

Mama. Mama. Mama. Where are you?

“Sweetheart,” Demi heard Mama Crane’s voice in her head. “It’s hard, I know, but do not think about it now. Think of the story instead, how our formation gives us the support for the migration, which is one of the toughest in the world. Few can fly over Mt. Everest, but we can. It’s hard, but this is what we do. The migration is like OUR great war, Demi.”

Demi flew without stopping, thinking, looking down or behind. She flew not knowing if she was headed in the right direction or toward her doom. Her lungs were tearing apart. Every flap felt as if a knife were slashing through her, but she kept telling herself what her Mama had said. It’s tough but we do it, because this is what we do. She kept talking and flying until finally, she saw the clouds clear. She saw mountains and green fields underneath.

“We crossed the Mt. Everest and the Himalayas," the leader said. "We are now in India.”

Far behind, Demi saw a familiar set of wings and a dip of feet.

"MAMA!" Demi shouted hoarsely. "MAMA!"

“You did it, Demi,” Mama Crane said, panting, coming up next to her. “You crossed Mount Everest without me, in the worst of squalls, and it was your first migration. I’m so proud of you. Now let’s go to our lake in Rajasthan.”

Demi was just happy that her Mama was safe. “I love you, Mama. Now tell me the rest of the story."

“I love you too,” Mama Crane said. "Let's have breakfast and I'll tell you."

---

So... what is the above story about Demi and Mama Crane really about? It's about the power of story to soothe our fears, the power of mythical figures to keep us going, help us deal with fear in our lives. We all need stories in our lives, especially during times of trouble.

When Mama Crane tells Demi - 'The migration is our Great War, Demi" - she means that the migration where they fly over the Himalayas at an altitude of 20,000 - 30,000 feet, is their war - their great challenge to overcome. It's something they must do, no matter what the danger.

Many demoiselle cranes die during the migration as it is one of the toughest in the world.

The story is also about pushing through our darkest moments, when we're alone with no one by our side to guide us or help us or support us.

So, in summary - here are some cool facts about the demoiselle crane:

1. Beautiful gray, white cranes with white feathers from the back of their eyes. Delicate, slender, and utterly graceful. In India, they are referred to as the koonj. They are near three feet high and are among the smaller of all cranes.

2. They range from Black Sea to Mongolia and fly over Himalayas to migrate to India.

3. According to Wikipedia, they were named by Queen Marie Antoinette for their delicate and maiden-like appearance.