Remaining Calm Amidst a Good Shepherd

One glorious autumn…I spent an afternoon climbing with a friend who grew up raising sheep in the Alps. We were climbing near the bottom of a ski area …[near] this steep green slope where [a] delightful flock of sheep [ate] all week, their bells ringing as they gaze and munch the lush Alpine meadow…[When I got close to the them] I tried to speak gently… and though this was their slope and not mine, their food and not mine, their country and not mine, my presence was no comfort to them. They began talking loudly to each other and instantly fled from me as if I were a wolf.

So later that…