Fly

So this morning, Foro and I woke up to cow bells (we live in a country where cows have bells, apparently to find them if they’ve slid off the mountain.)

Cows are tormented creatures. Here they have the bells, which must be pretty annoying. But they also have flies. Flies in their eyes, flies in their ears, flies accumulating on any bit of mud or dirt. Horses get repellent sprayed on them from time to time, and goats, sheep and llamas seem to be immune (or just hairy enough that the flies don’t bother them as much.) Pigs, when given the chance, hide themselves in mud. If they have access to water, they might walk into it which might give them some relief, but that’s rare for cows to have such luxury.

Cows don’t get too worked up about it, though. There’s nothing they can do; a little bob of the head from time to time, some mutual scratching with another cow or rubbing their head against a tree. If you think about the constant annoyances that they live with, cows are pretty zen.

We all have flies in our lives. We all have little things that make our daily existence annoying and irritating. There is nothing we can do about them. It’s life; it’s normal.

Foro thinks we should use the word as a noun and a verb at the same time: a fly and to fly. Lift ourselves above little annoyances of life, and zoom around until them until we’ve realized how little they mean in the long run.

I mean, sure it’s annoying what your partner said, or the loud music your neighbor is playing, or people stopping at the top of a moving escalator who then seem annoyed that you’ve been spit out at the end and run into them (dude, it’s a moving escalator, I don’t have a choice about this!!)

But these things are all flies. And we should fly. We should zoom back, look at the big picture, and relax. So says Foro, in any case.