and grazing and wandering out on the tide flats.
Whose? We didn't know.
Three horses behind barbed wire
leaned against their fence: cow TV.
They drank rainwater collected in Pat's outboard boat
as if it was a trough hauled out in the mud just for them.
Calves suckled. Randy youthful cattle
mounted other randy youthful cattle.
Meena latched her gate: no desire
for a tromping herd in her potato patch.
We were mostly amused: city folk
and the novelty of cattle roaming on a beach;
a suddenly very mucky beach,
pie-ridden, so-to-speak.
And just as quickly they disappeared,
along with their mournful moos, out beyond
some curve in the landscape.
Heh. Could you hear the local people muttering and cursing under their breath about the cows while you were happily taking photos?
ReplyDeleteLove it.
ReplyDeletethis never happens here.
ReplyDeleteIt's the Pamplona effect again! What we need now is some footage of you and your guests RUNNING down that road. In a such a wet year, Irish tourism needs a boost (I almost wrote 'a lift').
ReplyDeleteSounds like something from Withnail & I.
ReplyDelete