A Tiny Story: Ara the Icelandic Sheep

Ara looked over the fence into the lush, Icelandic landscape. Her mother and father, proud Icelandic sheep, lived on this land their entire lives. Sheared in the summer, bundled up together with thick wool coats in winter, this was the Icelandic sheep legacy.

It was enough.

Or was it? Ara wasn’t so sure. Her bulbous brown eyes saw her father with thick curved horns stare at the hazy sun of spring. Her mother was grazing on the newly budded grass around a broken tree, unaware of Ara’s proximity to the fence with a broken latch.

Ara inched over, knowing with a little nudge the fence would open. So close, she thought. Ara’s mother walked away, distracted by a blossoming flower.

Ara shook her wool coat and water droplets cascaded around her. It’s time, Ara thought. This was her chance.

Click.

Ara started cautiously walking towards the horizon. Surprisingly, no one called for her or had noticed.

Ara was determined to see something more than her grassy knoll today.

She walked for a while on rough, Icelandic terrain. Eventually, she saw the tip of Kirkjufell mountain.

She had seen this place on a postcard that fell out of a car that whizzed by her once. A shiver went down her spine…