📕A story from a researcher’s field diary

“Fifteen to twenty years ago, our pastures looked completely different. When we drove the livestock out to the nearby pastures, the grass there was so tall and thick that cows and sheep would sometimes literally get lost in the green sea. We had to walk into the grass, part it with our hands, call out to the animals, listen for the sound of bells and lowing. Counting the livestock back then was real work. If you lost count, you had to start again. If one was missing, you went searching.
Today everything is different. The grass has become short and sparse. Now a shepherd doesn’t need to walk around searching — it’s enough to sit or lie down on a small rise and simply count the animals with a glance. No one gets lost anymore, because there is nowhere left to get lost. Life seems to have become easier, but together with that, something important has gone. That tall grass is gone — the grass that held childhood, labour, care, and the strength of the land.
And every time you look at the emptying pastures, you understand: it’s not only the grass that is changing — the land itself is changing, and our connection to it.” – Community elder