Part II of our 2025 Migration Tales is here. Each year, we provide three updates covering different stages of Great Migration to help you follow herd movement throughout the year. These updates include live video from the field, giving you direct insight into where the herds are and how best to plan around their patterns.
A common misconception is that the migration lasts only a few months. In reality, it is a year-round cycle with key moments at every stage, moments we explore together in these tales.
In February of this year, I was in Tanzania and shared live video of the migratory herds in calving season. Down in the lower Serengeti, just north of Ndutu, we saw millions of zebras and wildebeest around us, and we were the only ones there for hours. Between the movements, the leopards, and the live births, it was the migration experience that so many miss.
Now, for those who want to hear the thundering hooves as the movement approaches and as the herds cross the famed Mara River, this tale is for you. This year, around mid-July, wildebeest and zebra started the arduous journey, daring to cross the Mara River. It was here that I insert my favorite passage about migration, written by a friend in a style that can only be called Hemingwayesque.
Enjoy the passage and the video, taken by our guides in the field at the river. The video entries you see this week were all filmed within the last 72 hours, raw, shaky cell phone footage that tells the story of the greatest show on Earth.
A Tale Told Through a Friends’s Eyes
The dust was the first thing. It was a fine, pale powder that rose from the earth with every hoof and coated the tongue. The sun was hard and white and made the short grass brittle. For days, the Gnu had moved south to north, a dark river of meat and bone flowing over the plain. The zebras were with them, their stripes a disruption in the solid, moving mass. They came to the river, and they stopped. The river was the Mara. It was wide and brown, and it did not look good. The Gnu milled at the edge, their foolish heads low, their calls a constant, nervous complaint. They could smell the water, and they could smell the green grass on the other side in Kenya. The smell of the grass was what drove them. It was a promise. For a long time, they did not move. The sun beat on their backs. The heat made the air shimmer over the water. A man could see the crocodiles on the far bank. They looked like logs, old and patient. They had been waiting. The river had been waiting. The crocodiles knew about the promise of the grass.
And suddenly one went. It was not a decision. It was a thing that happened. A bull, maybe, or a cow pushed from behind. It slid down the steep bank, its legs stiff with panic, and hit the water with a heavy splash. And then another went, and then a hundred, and then the bank gave way to a torrent of bodies. The sound was a great thing. It was the thunder of hooves on the mud and the panicked bellowing and the churning of the brown water. They were all in the water now, swimming with a desperate, ugly motion. Their heads were high, their eyes white with fear.
The logs on the other side were no longer logs. They moved into the current with a speed that was not natural. A crocodile took a calf. The water broke around the struggle and then was still. The calf was gone. The mother swam on. The herd pushed her on. There was no time for sorrow. There was only the other bank.
Another went down, its leg broken in the crush. It called out, a high, thin sound that was lost in the noise. The bodies pressed over it.
They fought the far bank. It was steep and slick with mud. Hooves scrabbled for purchase. An animal would pull itself halfway out, trembling with effort, then slide back. Another would push it from below. They climbed over one another, their flanks heaving. The first ones to make it stood shaking on the green grass. They were slick with mud and water. They did not look back at the river. The river was a bad thing, and it was done. They lowered their heads to the new grass.
In the Mara, the crocodiles fed. The water was thick with the dead and the dying. The vultures circled in the clean, hot sky, then began to drop. The river carried the bodies downstream. The sound quieted. The herd was already moving, a dark stain spreading across the green hills of the new country. The sun was still hot, and the plains did not care.
Since the herds have started crossing, we will say what we say every year around this time… They’re Baaaack!!
You know that we have been talking about social responsibility and using tourism as a force for good from before it was popular. Before the word sustainability became a household buzzword. At Big Five, the legacy of my father is simple, bring those that were marginalized like my parents and I to the light, and lift them up so they can do the same for others.
Well in 2015, Big Five set out on path to prepare for one of the most stringent audits on the planet, becoming a certified B Corporation. 10 years later, after a grueling assessment and audit process that went through our financials, our operation, and our footprint, I am so honored, to share that Big Five is officially a certified B Corporation. Out of 350 million businesses worldwide, we are among the now less than 10,000 that can say, we put our company to one of the hardest tests a company can endure, to prove to us, and most importantly, you, that our words and our work towards social responsibility passed this rigorous test. It’s a testament to the people I work with, heroes in their own right, and to all of you, our partners and your clients.
I don’t believe in coincidences, so you can imagine the lack of surprise when we noticed that on the week that we introduce the next letter in my father’s alphabet of emotional intelligence, J for Joy, an alphabet he was working on until his passing in 2024, that it matched up with this amazing announcement.
J – Joy Embracing the essence of Joy: Finding Beauty in Life’s Simple Moments
The importance of finding Joy through acceptance. It encourages us to embrace the present moment, accept things as they are, and find contentment within ourselves. It reminds us that happiness does not depend on external circumstances or achievements but rather on our attitude and perspective.
What is joy? Joy is about embracing the present moment with gratitude and appreciation. It’s about finding beauty in life’s simple pleasures. But joy is not always easy to come by. It requires a shift in perspective, a willingness to let go of worries and anxieties, and a commitment to living with purpose and mindfulness. It’s about choosing to focus on the good, even in the midst of adversity, and recognizing that happiness springs from within.
Simple formula find what brings you Joy and go there…
So how can we cultivate joy in our lives? It starts with self-awareness and self-care—taking the time to nourish our minds, bodies, and spirits. It means surrounding ourselves with people who uplift and inspire us, and engaging in activities that bring us joy and fulfillment. But perhaps most importantly, cultivating joy is about cultivating gratitude, and being truly thankful for the blessings we have been given.
Ultimately, Joy isn’t a destination; it’s the path we tread, marked by Letting Go of Expectations, Embracing Imperfections, Practicing Mindfulness, and Gratitude for the Present. It’s a journey that unveils itself one precious moment at a time. Let’s invite the beauty and marvels of the world into our hearts, letting joy light our way toward a life brimming with meaning, purpose, and love.
Joy blossoms when we acknowledge the goodness around us.
My father wrote, a few days before his passing, “Excellence is never an accident. It is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, and intelligent execution.” I believe this was what he meant.
I’m off to Las Vegas to see many of our advisor friends and amazing collaborators. As is our annual ritual, it is time for our pre VTW video. Come by, see us in the Sustainability Pavilion during Globetrotting on Saturday or Sunday. Learn about the community in the outer Amazon that benefits just by your visit and looking forward to seeing you during the week.
I don’t know how I manage to hold your attention during our meetings; I can’t seem to hold anyone’s attention in the office. Something about the Backstreet Boys and Superman’s dog seem to get in the way… watch the video you’ll see what I mean… as Rodney Dangerfield said, “I tell ya, I get no respect.”
See you in Vegas
