If these fields could talk.
I had to go back several weeks to find the last cow photos I took. They haven't been in the pasture lately, though yesterday I saw them hurrying along the top of the pasture toward the stand of trees you can see at the top of the photo.
That reminds me, the other day I was looking on a map, and the trees there are known as Gallows Wood. Kind of gruesome, isn't it? I can just imagine some poor highwayman meeting his end there, strung up by medieval vigilantes.
Not so bucolic after all. (And a not-so-subtle reminder of what happens to these beautiful creatures, when their milk production slacks off.)
