Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Cows are Ripe
This morning from my sleeping spot, I counted them off as they came in empty. More came while I was walking my first few miles. I was able to confirm my count when they came out again, full. Thirteen.
Thirteen was not a lucky number today for the cows who were ripe and ready for picking. As each semi with a double-decker cow trailer passed me full of cows shitting themselves, I waived at the driver, but what it really was a Catholic-inspired gesture at the beginning of a blessing I offered to the last eleven trailers. I said aloud for all eleven, "Your time on earth is almost over. Thank you for your service." I did it mostly to be doing something.
What did I say to the first two trailers? I shouted, "YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" but I didn't feel good about that, so I changed it. Somehow, I was reminded of the accounts of trains carrying Jews to their death in Germany. I didn't let that bring me down. I didn't dwell on it. Thru-hiking has made me a beef eater again.
I just took step after step on the paved road surrounded by rolling hills covered with low sage.