Today it feels like we’ve slipped into winter – how did that happen?
Today the trees look stark against the beautiful sky, it is damp and cold, and there is an earthy smell of decay. But strange discrepancies abound too. A Foxglove is in flower still, it’s delicately freckled throat facing the sun.
Today the sky was dramatic, pristine. It has been clear blue, shot through with every conceivable shape and shuffle that a cloud can make, smoky puffs of dark grey, silvery sides of mackeral , a mountain range in the distance kissed by low sun and a wash of the softest brush.
Today I feel sad.
Today I wish that my father was still alive, and that B & G were not ill, and that I could capture what is not possible.
I can hear the whirr of the starlings wings as they approach, flying along the valley edge, making their way to the roost on Bodmin Moor. And then they are gone, the breath of their beating wings landing on my shoulders.
Hello, well, some of you know that we’re buying a half share in a bull, Herald (if not, you can read about it here if you’d like). The other day I went to visit him in person for the first time with fellow bull purchasing friend T. Before we commit 100% he has to have blood tests for both TB and BVD (Bovine Virus Diarrhea) – it sounds horrible and best to test…a Hereford farmer in Wiltshire alerted us to this particular bovine problem. Which made me think that maybe we should have had ours tested too. Must get that fencing sorted…
The farm Herald is currently lodging at is on the hills above the Camel Estuary.
We approached him in the field, accompanied by the farmer and I took some pictures…
Herald, note table like back
He was pretty unconcerned by our presence until T went a little too close and he tossed his head in an irritated way. We backed off and he continued with his munching.
I’m thinking how to convert my trepidation into respect, which is how the farmer describes their attitude towards him and implies some sort of control over your gut feelings. Hmm.
Herald was originally halter trained though he hasn’t been handled in this way for two years. His owner and the farmer think he’ll remember no problem. T has volunteered to be the leader in this enterprise – erm, shall we say there wasn’t a queue…
T’s friend J the rope man http://www.stairropes.com. has made him a halter from rope, modelled here by a door
Rather than think too much about the Herald situation, I concentrate on looking at the sky and the clouds…
And the flowers…
PS thinking cowgirl is going offranch for about a week …so hasta luego for now (as they might say in a spaghetti western)
Dahlias by special request