Hungry for Experience

Tuesday evening will always be etched in my memory… there are photos to capture that brief window of time that my Irish coworker and I set off in search of beauty without having to go too far. We had forty five minutes before dinner was scheduled to start and had yet to really ‘sight see’. So off we went, snapping photos, nabbing apples from an open church orchard (‘Glorious!’ Vianney enthused), dashing down streets, pausing in a cemetery, nodding politely to those who called greetings in Swiss German. We even followed the sound of a bell to a herd of sheep. Vianney artfully convinced them to move closer to the fence so we could take pictures of them.


I thought his fascination of the sheep a bit odd given how many sheep are in Ireland. The difference, he pointed out, was that the sheep in Ireland don’t wear bells. Fair enough.

We watched the clock closely, not wanting to be late but not wanting to be early either. Every where I turned, the vista was breathtaking. Hardy, beautiful homes tucked into the mountain side, the brilliant blue sky stretching far above; flowers spilling from every window box, backyard gardens brimming with fresh produce. Here and there homeowners had arranged small pumpkins on their front stoop; in the old church cemetery, headstones overflowed with flowers, photos, decorative rocks. On each side of the cemetery were round fountains, edged with colourful watering cans and small plastic cones that the grieving could use to adorn the graves. All around me was evidence of a hardy, humble people who took pride in their surroundings and who relished the peace that came from living tucked between the mountains.

Later that evening, after wine, dinner and rich espresso a group of us headed out into the night to explore and digest. Along the quiet streets we walked, the low hum of conversations in German or heavily accented English (whether German or Irish) accompanying us.

We followed a path that took us into the hills over Balsthal, the glow of the town behind us and the brilliance of a full moon before. The air was cool, the night clear. We climbed into the hills for some time, turning occasionally to find constellations in the clear night sky or to admire the scenic beauty of a sleeping town. Somewhere in the dark was musical tinkling. I paused, listening, trying to mark the sound.

“What is that?” I asked Daniel when he paused beside me.
“Sheep,” he replied and I smiled.

At some point we decided we ought to head back; the morning would come soon enough and there was work to do.  And so, with the silent glow of the town stretching before us and the music of the sheep behind us we picked our way down out of the hills and back to our beds.