Somewhere in the Middle

by Bozhidar Lazarov (Bulgaria)

I didn't expect to find Bulgaria

While we are on the topic of memorable experiences, I find it couth to share this story of a rather memorable meeting. I was hitchhiking from Cherven Bryag to Lukovit. Instead of taking the main road as all sane people do, I decided to go through the old road. Why, you ask? Of course, I will tell you, it is because I believed it will spare me a few precious minutes. After all, the entrance to the old road was pretty close to where I was at the moment and the main road was at least twenty minutes of walking away. Trust me when I say, that I made good use of the twenty minutes I saved. All this time earned, and some more from my own pockets was spent climbing the endlessly rising curvature of what seemed to be mount Everest, judging by my ceaseless ascension. Around me there was nothing but trees, so the background was rather monotonous. Before me, only short stretches of road could be seen. They always ended engulfed by some curve's hungry mouth, which meant that the few cars passing around me could not pick me up, even if they wanted to. Thankfully, this happened in late April, so neither the heat could turn to sweat, nor the cold into shivers and icicles. My only complaints could be the knee pain, which the elevating asphalt was so casually hammering into my legs and the consuming boredom of my snail-paced movement. Since both of these were my fault, by the force of an old habit, I was keeping silent about them, because there was no one else to blame. After my short martyrdom, St. Christopher showed some mercy towards me. The tree line became sparse, and in the near vicinity, I could see a small clearing. The clearing itself was a nose-shaped projection of the hill, stretching forwards and soaring above the chasm beneath. It was floored with short grass, the occasional flower, and one cow. The cow was not grazing, it was not drinking water from a hidden spring, or aimlessly walking around. It was just lying on the edge, staring at the sky above, the valley beneath, and the village that was spreading in the middle of it all - some few hundred meters below. Because of an experience in my youth, I am not quite fond of cows, so I decided to keep as much distance between me and it as the narrow road allowed. As I neared it, all my nightmares came to life, as the animal turned around and looked me straight in the eye. I do not know what I was expecting of this short convergence, but no matter what it was, I remained surprised. In the eyes of the cow, I saw tranquility. These were not the eyes of some underdeveloped intelligence. On the contrary, there was some peaceful understanding in them. Call it wisdom if you want. Looking at the creature, while it looking at the world, I could feel that it knew exactly where it was and what it was doing there. Sitting in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing, with no intention of moving away, it was soaking the world through these eyes and probably filling its little heart with whatever it could, through the uncertain amount of time it had left in this world. Seeing that it showed no interest in me, I quickly passed the animal and continued down the road. Soon, the meeting was just a memory. There was still a long journey before me. To my surprise, the pain in my knees had substantially subsided. Maybe it was because of the adrenal rush from this short meeting, or maybe because I was now looking at the world through the eyes of a cow.