I could hear them before I saw them. I was on my way back from a not very successful round of golf in the Algarve. Remembering the advice that I should lose weight (it is something I frequently decide to forget) I was munching some carrots, sitting in the car, door and windows open, enjoying the May sunshine. I could hear the bells that some of the sheep wear before I could see the flock of sheep, the Shepherd and the lone dog accompanying them. The south-west of the Algarve is very rural, some people call it the wild west. More to do with the wild and unspoilt (and unforgiving as several people find their death in the strong surf each year) then with anything connect to the American Wild-West. In the midst of this rural enclave whole parks of wind-turbines have been placed and I had my car parked about 200 metres away from one. There were some 70-100 sheep, one Sheppard and one dog coming towards me and as a backdrop about 50 wind turbines. It felt like 1800 was meeting 2010! The Shepherd was leaning heavily on his stick, a thick brown curved apparatus that looked by itself quite heavy. He seemed to carry it and use it with ease although each step he took was an effort and clearly painful. Each step was taken slowly and by leaning on the stick and his face grimaced with pain, step done, a brief pause, a respite from the pain, the sheep are checked and then the next step, same process, grimace of pain, pause, checking sheep and so on. I could now see that he was completely dressed in leather, leather pants, leather parka, covered with a sheepskin, sheepskin hat and he was carrying a rucksack of leather. Despite all the clothes and the weight of the rucksack and the fact that the temperature was about 25 C, he did not shed one drop of sweat. Occasionally there are brief instructions to the dog. The dog is close to his master and the eyes rarely leave his master’s face. Whispered instructions are speedily obeyed, job done, e.g. sheep brought back in the fold, the dog returns to his master’s side.
The Shepherd has arrived on a small rise in the land and against the backdrop of 21-st century wind turbines this man from centuries past takes a brief rest and overseas his empire. His age is a guess, he could be anywhere between 40 and 70. Leaning on his stick he overseas, yes, what DOES he see? His eyes must have seen so many things. Does he see the loved ones that died during the time of the fascist dictatorship in Portugal? Does he remember the loving touch of a wife? Does he recall how this land once was?
The sheep seem to have found some scrumptious patch of grass as they have stopped moving about. The grass they eat does not seem any different to me then the grass they ignored, but then I don’t have sheep’s eyes!
The Shepherd still standing on the rise in the landscape overseas it all and now takes his backpack off. Two items are taken out, one is a bottle of something and the other is a big bowl. The latter proves to be sustenance for man and dog. The Shepherd has found a rock to sit on and uses a fork to eat from the bowl. With regular intervals he holds the bowl down and the dog can take a few bites. Man and dog eat in silent companionship. The wind-turbines’ whoosh in the background, the occasional sheep’s noise and the hint of the sea as background noise: 1800 meets 2010. Once eaten, both friends rest, the dog lies down, but with eyes still on his friend. The man, stands again leaning on his stick and keeps an eye on the sheep. Or is he seeing the land that once was?