One Apple A Day #20
I guess it’s working time. I don’t know the habits here in Patagonia but the whole herd is moving as one. The sheep are walking all together on the other side of the lake. They form a perfect queue. One after the other. They dawdle with their load of wool. The long grey line is hypnotic. No one is trying to skip the queue. They move at the same pace, a bit unstable with their tiny legs. I have the impression that the wool they wear must be heavy to carry on. It looks like they are constantly trying to not fall into the water.
I look around for the shepherd but I can’t find anyone. Neither a dog. The only animals in the green valley are the sheep. They are in all the possible sizes and shades of grey. And they walk in line. A perfect long line. Who called them? Who told them to move in that direction? Is the one in front some sort of a leader? Do any of them really know where they are going and why? What are they thinking while the walk, trying to neatly keep a line no one designed?
Sheep are always described as dumb and cowards in stories. How do they say? Better to live a day as a lion than a life as a sheep? This is not fair. It’s easy to be brave when you are the strongest and most dangerous animal around. A sheep doesn’t have claws, strong legs or sharp teeth. But I bet lions can’t keep a perfect line like those wonderful lovely sheep.