Sometimes life drops blessings in your lap without your lifting a finger. Serendipity, they call it.
— Charlton Heston
On my last day in Vermont, I decided to drive to Middlebury, about an hour south of Burlington, to see Middlebury College where Judit’s daughter graduated, and soak up some more Vermont scenery before I left the state.
A few miles north of Ferrisburgh I happened to glance to my right and that’s when I saw her.
My immediate reaction was, What a strange humpback cow. I kept on driving and my mind kept on whispering, It’s a camel, It’s a camel, It’s a camel.
I had to find out.
I made a U turn and drove back to where I had seen the humpback cow and parked across the road.
It was definitely a camel.
I snapped a few pictures, and in the last one the camel turned her head and looked directly at me. Then she ambled across the field and disappeared behind a barn. I made a U turn and continued on to Middlebury.
Later that day when I drove back to Burlington, there was no camel in the field. The next day I drove by the same field on my way to the Berkshires. There was no camel in the field.
But for those few minutes on my drive to Middlebury I had seen a camel in Vermont.
As I crossed the state line and entered Massachusetts, I started thinking about the camel. Had I not glanced in that direction I would have missed her. Had I left my hotel a few minutes later I would not have seen her. Had I ignored the chant in my head — It’s a camel — I would have gone away with an image of a strange humpback cow that would have soon faded and disappeared.
Seeing that camel in Vermont was wonderfully serendipitous.
I wonder how many camels we miss in our lives because of timing or because we’re not paying attention?
Postscript – Two Weeks Later
Turns out, the Google machine knows all about the Camel in Vermont.
She is a he, and his name is Ollie. Owner Judith Giusto uses the down from his coat, mingled with merino sheep fibers, to create sweaters, scarves, and afghans that she sells in a small shop in Ferrisburgh. Next trip, maybe I’ll stop and buy an Ollie-something.
But I wonder, which was more fun, the mystery of a Camel in Vermont or the story of a Camel named Ollie in Vermont?
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