On the third Sunday of September, the meadow at Ukanc fills with the sound of cowbells arriving before the cows do. Then the herders come down from the high pastures, shoulders loaded with the basenga, the whole kit of tools and utensils that made cheese possible above the tree line all summer. The cattle wear flower crowns. The brass band plays through it. Somewhere behind all of this, Lake Bohinj lies perfectly still.
The Cows’
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