Cows at Night

Night settles in the country side like a threadbare security blanket nestles comfortingly next to a sleeping child. As the swaths of rice patties, the orchards of apples and pears, the rows of lettuce and ever ripening garlic outside of Eonyong are blanked by nighttime, they are shrouded in a comforting sense. They are not smothered in a terror such as the entities of the city are when night rolls around. I know this because I've been doing a lot of night time running in the country side, and as I head out of Eonyong and the woosh of traffic turns into the sound of tractors on dirt roads, and as the smell of BBQ and fast food turns into wood burning stoves, and as the hustle and bustle that exists even in the small W. Ulsan suburb turns into crickets chirping, and as the sun sinks farther and farther below the horizon, I too an covered in the night time, and in those moments, I feel great comfort and peace. There is a magical joy that swirls around the countryside at night, and tonight, I got a special dose.

As I was heading back on my loop, I noticed a farmer a ways down the road running in the same direction. I picked up my pace to see what was going on, and as I neared him, he suddenly spun around and started running towards me. A second later, a massive cow came around a corner, so I too began to run in the opposite direction. As I looked back at the cow, the headlight I was wearing must have scared the cow, so it turned away from us, and the farmer gave me a quick glance almost as to say "Thank you." I marvel in those moments. Those are the spontaneous unexpected, random, natural, substance free moments that I believe are common in the country side, of which I only get glimpses of as I run. However, I am drawn to the more rural side of things, and through my life I have gravitated to the more rusticated, more pastoral, more wild lifescapes, and in this trend, I have discovered that my happiness is directly proportional to my proximity to nature.