Bronze Age, Iron Age, Ice Age...but who's counting?
These blackface sheep were on one of the most spectacular hillsides in southern England. They were very near the Uffington White Horse, a Bronze Age chalk figure carved into the hillside. I've seen it from afar, but on this day, the sun was too bright to get a view from the bottom of the hill. So we tramped up the hill from the carpark, and examined it up close. From that distance, it looked like a chalky gravel road.
Of course I was really after the sheep. I waited patiently for one of them to look up at me from its industrious munching—they didn't realize it was a bank holiday and they should take the day off, perhaps go for a little ramble round the countryside, pop into a pub for a pint.
In the background is The Manger, the oddly shaped hillside formed by the melting glaciers of the last Ice Age. Am I getting too nerdy for you? I am unfortunately not a well-rounded person; I spent New Year's Eve reading a text about England's archaeology.
Even the sheep seem to think I'm weird.
