happy cows

Day 25 of this journey. I originally intended to stay in Italy for the final half of my four week trip to Europe. I think this was mostly because I felt more secure after two weeks in Florence…with both the language and the culture. I began to see Florence as “home” after several days. I knew how to get around without too much help and could find an inexpensive meal and glass of wine. I also had friends in Florence, a great room, and the Gonzaga campus around the corner. Breaking free from these comfortable moorings I expanded my European borders and ventured into France.

Yesterday I traveled by a small touring van over the Alps. We went through ancient villages, some remarkably austere in treeless  environments and others with busy sidewalk cafes full of climbers and their gear...drinking glasses of beer and huddled over maps of the mountain. These are mostly young Frenchmen with a clear passion for the climb. Back where I have been basing in Les Houches some of these climbers stay in a bunkhouse and work with their ropes on a large boulder in front of the hotel.

One of the outstanding experiences yesterday's excursion was a stop made as we descended from the top of the Alps into Italy. As I got out of the van, I heard what I thought were church bells that resounded out of a green mountainside…I could not determine the source until the driver pointed to a large herd of very large black cows. Each had their own bell and every movement made while grazing was a note in this incredible sound feast. We walked up to a small building selling snacks patronized by what seemed like local customers. One gentleman carrying  a wooden board with several cheeses, sausage slices,  and crusty bread stopped to show us his purchase and explained that these were all products of these delightfully melodic cows.  I ordered a glass of red wine (2.5euros) and walked to a nearby building where a young girl dressed in high rubber boots was tending  to the  cleaning of what is apparently the home of these productive cows.

I hesitate to assign an emotion of happiness to a cow, but if ever a cow had a reason to be happy, these cows do. There is a sense of humane care that contrasts sharply with the stockyards in Herford, Texas or the stories I have heard about Cargill or the horrors of the  meat packing plants in California. The sausage seemed fit for a vegetarian.