Stays to hear the stag’s bellow in Lozère

Just imagine. In the glow of the setting sun, in a forest bathed in shimmering, almost magical light, you walk in silence. All your senses are on high alert. You spot the late-blooming flowers, hear the birdsong, and smell the scent of the first fallen leaves of early autumn. When suddenly, a cry pierces the night. A guttural sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. A cry of love, uttered by the forest’s very own Don Juan. The stag’s bellow. Following your guide’s advice, you remain even quieter and move stealthily towards the source of the sound. And finally, after hours of waiting, there he is, emerging from behind a copse. First, a pair of antlers, then the stag in all his splendour. The wait will soon be forgotten, but the memory will last a lifetime.