Farming

A Visit From the Boys

Bullocks

The Monday Photo

I walked across the field to the Hawthorn trees in the corner. They were on the river bank. It was a warm sunny evening. In the field, bullocks were calmly feeding. I had come to photograph the May blossom for last week's Monday Photo.

I concentrated on photography, my back to the field. I could hear the bullocks moving around as they cropped the lush grass, but I took little notice.

A few minutes later I felt a snort of warm breath. I turned round to see a bullock having a good sniff at me, his huge white head not an inch away. Around and behind him, every other bullock in the field had come with him to see what I was up to.

He sniffed at me again, and as I looked at them they drew back a little. I began taking their pictures, but with me now facing them they soon drifted away and left me on my own.

I turned back to the Hawthorn blossom and raised my camera again.