I’ve been spending many, many hours sitting inside at the weekends, looking at the sunshine and fields full of tractors and cows, revising agricultural rent reviews and other such matters. But there comes a time when my brain can only take so much of compulsory purchase compensation, and then the inevitable happens.
As quick as a flash I’m downstairs, boots laced and camera in hand. The cattle have become my photography subjects.
It goes something like this. The cattle are relaxing, chilling out in the field. Some are lying down, others are eating. They know where they are and they’re happy and comfortable. So I walk into the field.
One by one they look up. ‘Who is this person in our field? She’s not the one who feeds us…’
I crouch down. These are young, maiden heifers and I’m 5ft10. Cattle look strange when you take photos from above! This confuses them even more. There’s a public footpath so walkers passing through are not uncommon, but someone stopped, crouching in the field? That’s unusual. And so more begin to appear.
And eventually I end up quite surrounded by these lovely girls. They stand around and look at me, sniff me, snort at me. But, because I’m still crouching down they don’t come very close. Still unusual.
I stand up to leave and immediately they march forwards. ‘Oh!’ they say. ‘You’re just a person, really! Well why didn’t you say?!’
And with that they’re all over me. Licking, rubbing, scratching. I back away slowly so as not to get chased, and leave them to it, to find their cousins, the beef cattle, for some more entertainment.