‘I have a question.’

‘I have many!’


‘Perhaps we will get the answers when we are grown up. There seems to be this thing called adults. I don’t know when you are one, but some sheep are, some are not, so there must be some binairy thing going on, an invisible herder dividing sheep into adults and not-adults? Anyway, since we do not know certain things, it must be because we are not grown up.’



‘We can ask adults!’


And here they are. The adults. The ones that are supposed to know, because the younger ones don’t. So here goes.


What the younger ones pondered about was this: the untranslatable things in life are worth experiencing, only if it was because you have to be  silent to describe them.


“A good question indeed, why must everything be vocalised”, Elsa asked. “Can’t we just not have a word for ‘the day before yesterday’?” The yesterday is still there.. Well in this case yesterday is not here, but if it was, would it be not if we were unable to name it?”


“What is the question again?” Gustav wondered more about how he learned to cough.


Elsa compressed her question: “If you don’t have a name for something, it can still exist, right?”


“You are right in this case”, Gustav replied. Although he had been in some weird stories, something to do with being a fruit, or a cake of fruit, tooting his own horn, being stuck to a wall.. almost the only thing he hadn’t experienced was being a Google doodle, he was right. Luckily it does not matter whether you like to kiss goats or sheep, whether it be males or females, or whether you like to kiss them on the cheek or on the lips.. when you are right, you are right. And Gustav was right. Because Elsa was right. In this case.


“Would the world be different if we did have a word for the sound that snow makes when you walk on it,” Gustav mused.


“Snow would still be snow, I guess. We could also still hear the sound. Even when you were not there, you remember the sound the snow makes. And in places where sheep know no snow, the word for them would even not make any sense. They would always have one word left blank in their dictionary. I am marveled here: does language make the world we live in?”


The four sheep went silent for a while. They were thinking of snow. How if  they wanted to say ‘I love how this snow errrr..’ Scrunches? Crackles?

“Maybe we can take a detour?’ Elsa mootet. “And use the words that describe the situation more vividly? So we turn it around. This time we don’t mold ‘the day before yesterday’ into one word, but we stretch one word out and just see what happens.. I am thinking about snow that sighs silently under the weight of your hoofs.”


“You callin’ a certain Gustav fat again?”


She ignored his remark. “‘Hearing the squished snow mourn for minutes.’ How is that for the sound of snow?”


She attempted a flirt: “Or you can even talk about the snow uttering some happy queeking when a not so heavy goat takes a turn left.”


“Oh, the creativity that shines through here in your explainings! It clearly shows you have a passion for language.”


“Hey, adult-you, you know there is just one word for that, right? When you see personality in someones creation?”


“Yes, the Greek own it; it’s called meraki.”


‘Hm.. now, who’s teaching who here..’