We are people whose lives are ruled by sheep, by the seasons, and above all by mountains. We make cheese here, sheep's cheese. You won't find a better cheese anywhere, that's a promise. Almost all the families have a flock of sheep which graze in the fields around the village, but when the snows clear, they take them up on to the mountain pastures for sweet summer grass. The cows go too, and the horses and the pigs.
Snow cuts us off for at least three months of every winter, sometimes more, and then we are left to ourselves. But it's a peaceful place any time of year. The winding road from the valley ends in the village square. Beyond us are the mountains, and beyond the mountains, the sky. We are a world of our own and we like it that way. We are used to it. The life is hard but predictable. People are born, people die. We have our blizzards and our droughts, no one ever has enough money and the roof always needs repairing.
The Dancing Bear, P10
Michael Morpurgo, illustrated by Christian Birmingham
ISBN 978-0-00-674511-2
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