Chapter 29: Chapter 29: The cow makes funny sounds, but so does my best friend, Burch

*Moooo~* says the cow.

 

It lazily munches on the grass.

 

We had walked upon the shore for a time.

 

The shore itself never seemed to end. It just went on forever.

 

The same could be said of the water, which was always at our side as well.

 

But the swamplands have indeed come to an end now, and to our other side, adjacent to the salty water of the ocean, is a grassland.

 

It is much easier to walk on the grass, than on the sands of the shore.

 

Burch stands there and looks at the cow.

 

The cow looks at us.

 

*Mooo* says the cow.

 

- Fascinating.

 

I watch as the cow slowly lowers its head and continues grazing on the grasses of the meadow by the ocean.

 

It is a big creature.

 

It is far larger than either Burch or I myself am. But it seems to be mostly docile. It simply eats grass and stands in the sun and listens to the calm cascade of the ocean waves. Only occasionally does it stop its perfect life in order to say -

 

*Moooo*

 

Haha.

 

That one was perfectly timed with my thoughts. Thank you, cow.

 

I will never forget this.

 

My friend’s stomach growls.

 

But I think that we both know that this is a bit too much. Assuming we kill the cow with no trouble, what will we do with all of the meat?

 

We can hardly carry it.

 

And stopping to cook over a fire now would be disastrous.

 

Poor Burch. She has no idea.

 

“Moooo~” says Burch, her throat rumbling as she lowers her tone.

 

The cow looks up at her, but keeps eating grass instead of replying.

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Burch smiles, despite the cow’s rudeness.

 

We continue walking.

 

After a minute, a distant *Mooooo~* reaches us and Burch laughs.

 

It is good.

 

- Thank you, cow.

 

I have decided that I like cows.

 

They make my best friend happy.

 

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Words.

 

Words are funny things.

 

With a word, I can define a single thing or concept.

 

A ‘cow’, a ‘Burch’, a ‘sunflower’. All of these things represent something singular.

 

- Each of these is one specific entity.

 

But already these things are complex in their makings. How many words are needed to describe every part of Burch? Of the cow? Of myself? After all, we are all things of many parts.

 

- So, in that sense, we are all things of many words.

 

It is very complex.

 

But words can also be strung together to make sentences and questions, and from there on out, things get even more complicated. A sentence can be a very wild thing. It can be as wild as any savannah, swamp or desert in the world.

 

And so, the level of complexity has increased immensely already. We are not speaking of abstract things such as the rules held between nature and the living, or the implications that one person’s behavior has on another. These are deep, incredible topics in and of themselves and there are thousands more topics just like them.

 

No, we are simply speaking of words.

 

If words, just by themselves, are already this complex and nuanced, then what does that say about the overwhelming complexity of experience that life offers us?

 

- Wow.

 

As my thoughts wander, I realize that I have never quite realized how complex life really is.

 

In the puzzle of life, there are so many thousands, perhaps millions, of individual pieces to think and to worry about at any given moment of any given day.

 

The light of the sun strikes me as we leave the shadow of a tree, which we were walking beneath.

 

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