Alsace in 24 hours. At dawn, a nature break in the Kochersberg

It's 5:30 a.m. in Kuttolsheim. A fresh breeze is blowing across the horizon, and the sun's rays are already filtering through the clouds, giving the sky a soft pink hue. While the village is asleep, a small group of eight people have gathered on Rue du Lac, their eyes narrowed, binoculars around their necks, and walking sticks in hand.

These brave souls rose at dawn to enjoy a sunrise walk. "We'll be walking for three hours," announced the guide, Maurice Wintz, a volunteer with Alsace Nature. "There won't be too much elevation change, just a slight climb through the forest," he reassured with a smile. Several excursions of this type are regularly organized by the Kochersberg tourist office, in partnership with Alsace Nature.

The meeting point was set at the Schwefelsee pond, a tributary of the Souffel. "Look over there, there are two little kestrels," exclaimed the guide, pointing to the top of the Sainte-Barbe chapel, which adjoins the lake. "Oh yes, they're beautiful," observed Philippe Utard, a middle school music teacher, after taking out his binoculars.

At 6 a.m., the group sets off. The sun is already high in the sky. With her neat hiking outfit and lively appearance, Gaby Hott marvels: "We don't realize that in the morning there's all this, we stay in bed, but it's great!" She, who worked at the Eurometropolis as a secretary in a medical-social center, found the walk on the Kochersberg tourist office website. Walking more regularly was one of her New Year's resolutions: "I made a little list of everything I wanted to do after work. On it, there's: painting, DIY, and then sports! That's why I'm here," she confides with a smile.

After a few minutes of walking in the Alsatian forest, the small group pauses once more. "Listen to this." Everyone falls silent. "It's the song of a golden oriole, a very beautiful yellow and black bird," the guide says, raising his head. "It's a fruit-eating migratory bird that comes in the summer, in May, and returns to Africa in the fall." Without missing a beat, Philippe Utard takes out his phone and shows the guide a photo of the bird. "Is this the one?" he asks, tapping his finger on the screen. "Yes, that's it. It's true that now you have your devices there, your cell phones. I still work with my old book," replies Maurice Wintz, smiling as he places his outdated bird guide back under his arm.

After this birdwatching interlude, the small group resumes their walk. At the back, Fanny Hell is dragging her feet a little. "My husband Philippe is an early riser, he's the one who brought me here. Honestly, I never go for a walk at this time," the young math teacher confides, laughing. "What wouldn't we do to spend a little time together without the teenagers," she jokes, dodging the wild brambles. "We tried to bring our youngest, who's in 6th grade, back, without success!"

As the walk continues, the forest landscape gives way to more open terrain. The guide grabs a branch on which lie several dozen small black balls: elderflowers. "You can make a very good kir with these," he assures us, "but I don't recommend eating them like that; they're very dry on the palate!"

Maurice Wintz taught himself everything he knows about nature. A lecturer in environmental sociology before retiring, he has given much thought to the relationship between humans and nature. "In fact, today, we have very little direct contact with nature," he laments. "We no longer make the connection between what we eat and the conditions in which that food is produced."

After descending a long dirt road, our small group returns to the path they had taken from the lake. "We'll be there very soon," announces the guide. He leads the hikers to Caroline Huerlimann's guesthouse, where she has prepared breakfast for the occasion. "We only get it when the tourist office organizes it!" laughs Maurice Wintz. On the menu: smoked salmon tartines, croissants, and fruit skewers. Those with a sweet tooth are delighted. After exchanging a few words and enjoying their hearty breakfast, the hikers go their separate ways. Despite their small eyes, they're probably thinking they were right to get up at this early hour; the nature is so beautiful.