1 July 2017

Cattle

On Thursday evening, at the end of a grey and rather wet day, I was sitting in "Clint" reading a book. I was parked up adjacent to a gateway on Fulwood Lane, not far from Brown Hills Farm. After a couple of pages I noticed a cow strolling over to the gate with two brown calves. All three were observing me with that quiet, becalmed nature that is characteristic of most cattle.

Compared with human beings they appear so peaceful, at ease with their outdoor life, content to munch grass and let the hours pass by. As the three beasts observed me, I wound down my window and mooed at them. Though I say it myself, my impersonation of a lowing cow is so authentic that if I were following you down the road you would turn expecting a Guernsey or a Friesan, not a crazy animal impersonator.. However, the three creatures at the gateway seemed deeply unimpressed.

More cows wandered over to the gateway till there were around twenty checking me out with their big brown eyes.. They pushed against each other to get a better view of the human in the silver car. It may have been the most exciting event of their day and briefly I felt like a TV celebrity enoying the adulation of his adoring fans.

I tell you, it isn't easy to concentrate on a nineteenth century novel when you have a small herd of cattle watching you from six feet away but after half an hour they began to drift off towards the other side of the field. The show was over and more grass munching was required before nightfall.

I snapped the top picture of the resting cow on the edge of Houndkirk Moor last week. She is just relaxing there in the sunshine. Beyond her, down in the valley, you can see the western side of the city of Sheffield where I have lived since 1978.

24 comments:

  1. Communing with cows? Is that the same as communing with nature?

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    1. I guess it is. I'm like Dr Dolittle.

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  2. You just proven I am not, after all, Robinson Crusoe. I, too, have been known to moo at cattle as I've driven past them; and also I have been known to bark at dogs.

    'Tis good to be friendly! :)

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    1. Have you ever hopped with a mob of kangaroos?

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    2. Sure! Of course! All the time.

      Well, not all the time, but when I go to Brisbane I don't drive my car. I hitch a ride in the pouch of a roo...it's cheaper and it's actually quicker than going via the highway...no traffic jams on the motorway. The paddocks are mostly clear going.

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    3. Wow! That's amazing Lee. I hope you're not kidding me.

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  3. such a sweet photo, calm, soothing, just right!

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    1. Thank you Linda Sue. Sometimes cows seem wiser than us.

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  4. A very interesting photo. You've caught everything from the farm to the city in one shot. You made me smile with your description, especially the celebrity part :) My father used to caw at the crows. They seemed rather nonplussed by it.

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    1. Can you make convincing animal noises Jenny? I guess you can bray like a donkey!

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  5. I read somewhere in blogland that cows cause more deaths to humans than dogs. Maybe they are crafty and lure us into a false sense of trust with their lumbering innocent appearance.
    Briony
    x

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    1. I am always very wary when crossing a cow field. You need to be especially careful if there are calves in the field or if you have a dog with you.

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  6. I had to laugh at the thought of you trying to concentrate on your book with a herd of cattle a few feet away staring you out. You weren't reading "W-udder-ing Heights" by any chance?

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    1. Ha-ha! Nice one ADDY! It could have been "Good Moo-ning Vietnam"... but in fact it was "The Mill on The Floss" by George Eliot.

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  7. You are not alone, Paul always moos at cows when he sees them. They have quite long conversations.

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    1. What do they talk about? My main topics are milk production, grass species and bullfighting.

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  8. I have always found cows to be very inquisitive, if not downright nosey.

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    1. When butchered they can be very tasty.

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  9. Cows seem to live such placid, idyllic lives, until you stop to consider how those lives often end. I'm not sure it's worth it. I bet those cows were waiting for you to produce a snack for them. Maybe they're used to being fed by passers-by?

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    1. Nobody gives those cows snacks. They are not like horses. Cows only want grass - fresh or dried - it doesn't matter. They probably imagined that they were about to be moved to a different field.

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  10. Love them and shall miss them when I move.

    Incidentally it seems I congratulated Derek for the poem accidentally - so if I didn't congratulate you - well done.

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    1. I am glad you liked the poem Mrs Weaver-Thistlethwaite.

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  11. I' m beginning to suspect more and more that you are in reality a 40-ish spinster living in High Wycomb or Bury St. Edmunds who fancies herself a writer but lives a rather drab daytime existence as a checker of groceries. In the evenings you return to your bleak flat and crank out fictional travelogue-type compositions out of whole cloth about an imagined life whilst searching through old issues of Rural Life or English Countryside for accompanying photographs. Then you post them on your faux persona blog for the rest of us poor slobs to enjoy. Am I close? For what it's worth, think George Eliot would approve.

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    1. Oh dear! I have been rumbled at last! You are not R.Brague you are Frank Columbo!

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