{This is my response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw, a Google-Maps-inspired challenge of 150 words. }
I sat, high on my wooden branch perch, counting sheep.
This was my routine. The woods were cool that day, but dry. My tent was well-hidden. I had a canopy of branches above my head and a carpet of ferns at my feet. I smelled like the earth. What more could a man want?
In a few hours, the nibbling sheep would have gone back home, to their pre-packaged kibble and slimy water basins. No one subsisted from Nature anymore, not even the animals.
Round about now, there would be cheese down on the farm. The presses would be done dripping, and the fresh taste would have turned sharp and robust. Surely, they would not miss a single wheel.
I checked again to make sure the modern-day shepherd, with his pretentious tweed coat and precious pipe, had settled down for a snooze. Then I knew it was safe to go.
Great atmosphere.
Thanks Lisa! There’s nothing like a perch in the woods to make you feel one with Nature!
Love this–there is a playful riddle-like quality to it.
Hey Andrea – I wonder what he had done… is going to do… maybe steal the modern-day sheepherder’s quad bike?! He has a wonderful knowledge of the land and it’s processes, though, so I wonder if revenge is not his motive… whatsoever he is going to do…
The sense of place was strong, but maybe a tiny bit too strong, as if it were for you rather than your character and reader?
Good question Kelvin. I guess I left his intentions open-ended, although you could infer that he is going to take the cheese. This could be an opportunity for surprise, if he actually does something unexpected!
He does sound a little snippy, talking about the shepherd, so perhaps they have a history and he is plotting revenge.
Thank you for the comments about the scene overwhelming the story. I think I was channeling Minnesota or the German woods, which both have the same temperate forest feel. Here in Florida the woods look much different. Sorry if it diminished the story–I’ll try to be alert to this potential flaw in the future. Much appreciated!
Sorry to post my reply to your comment twice Kelvin. I lost it on my comment page and thought the computer had eaten it, only to find it published!
He seems to take his time ~ counting sheep, waiting for the shepherd to settle down for a snooze, and simply enjoying his day ~ before going out to collect necessities of life.
Yes somewhat idyllic, don’t you think, for him anyway. As long as you don’t mind smelling like the earth and risking jail, that is.
Love the mood in this setting, and how the narrator derides the farmers’ lifestyle even as he slyly steals his own living from him.
Hypocrisy is everywhere!
That’s an enigmatic tale. Why count the sheep? I liked the description of the man’s hide.
Good question about counting, Penny. I do not resolve that mystery in this, do I? I guess I just imagined that, living in the woods as a hobo, more or less, he had developed routines to keep him occupied in the long hours between meals and tramps through the woods. Maybe it comes from my experiences living with a kid with autism, the concept, that routines can be an end in themselves.
I loved this! Great comment by Josh! Blessed are the cheese-takers…
Thanks Dale! Our family is partial to cheese, though we usually pay for it…
Blessed are the cheese-takers? Well done! Great sense of place in this piece.
Ha ha, J Hardy! A forgotten Beatitude. Thank you. It is beautiful, isn’t it. What a great suggestion by Kelvin M. Knight!