A COUPLE OF years ago, my son and I were in Iceland walking through the Fljótsdalshreppur valley toward the Hengifoss waterfall. Roughly halfway through our walk, I had a welcome distraction from wondering how to pronounce Fljótsdalshreppur when we came upon a fence with a closed gate. A sign in English and Icelandic said, “Please close the gate so the sheep won’t escape.”
We’d passed several sheep prior to reaching the gate, and a quick look ahead revealed several clusters of sheep beyond the gate. A new mental exercise: Which sheep were the escapees?
While the number of sheep in Iceland has decreased steadily since 1980—my son and I are only partially responsible for the decline, having spent seven days steadily consuming pylsur, or Icelandic hot dogs, featuring lamb as a main ingredient—there are still nearly one sheep per person. You would think a country with this human-to-sheep ratio would excel at containing sheep. Nope.
It turns out sheep are going to wander.
Throughout our trip, as we drove the Ring Road searching for pylsur, puffins, and playgrounds, we saw sheep who had escaped fences and even crossed moat-like drainage trenches to make their way into the road. Clustered in groups of three or four, oblivious to fences and moats, they quietly chewed grass, barely even glancing up as we whipped by in our tiny Hyundai.
A dutiful church consultant at the time, I was reminded of a black t-shirt a stranger thrust into my hands at a Christian conference in Orlando a few weeks prior with “1/99” in white (with a red fraction bar) writ large between the shoulders. The shirts were a reference to Jesus’ parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15: A shepherd goes to find a sheep who wanders from his flock, carries it home, and then his friends throw a party. Very biblical. Very merchandisable.
Were the wearers of the T-shirts supposed to be the one who wandered off or one of the 99 sheep still with the flock? Or were they, as some of the folks I met at the conference, self-appointed rogue shepherds, doing whatever it takes to save the “lost”?
Which sheep were the escapees?
Expression of faith or mission by T-shirt is a Christian specialty, and while another black T-shirt is tempting, wearing this one felt like participating in Spider-Man cosplay at Comic-Con while insisting I actually fight crime on the weekends. I am not the hero.
Back at home, I stuffed the T-shirt into the bottom dresser drawer, the de facto collection spot for future trips to Goodwill.
There are sheep on both sides of the gate.
On my way up to Hengifoss, I could not have told you if I was on the inside of the fence or the outside of the fence. I only knew that I was no longer able to spot my rental car parked in the distance, and I still didn’t know how to pronounce Fljótsdalshreppur.
Back in the rental car my bag had seven black Fruit of the Loom T-shirts, none of which were emblazoned with fractions. We went through the gate and closed it behind us just in case.
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