That will be this post today.
Is that because I didn’t run this week.
It’s because my phone’s photo gallery is full. I didn’t realize it until I tried to take a picture on my run this morning.
So instead of a photo, let me share with you a Dickensian photo, if you will. One of many words.
I was nearing around mile marker 3 for my run (and by mile marker 3, I mean when my RunKeeper app shouts at me from my phone that I’ve run 3 miles), when I spotted some barbed wire fence to my right. It was neat, well kept, but rusty in spots. Cared for, but well used. It’s not uncommon to see barbed wire fence in our area. There are quite a few cattle and horse farms.
And that’s what this was: a cattle farm. The starless night-colored bovines dawdled lazily in the slowly rising winter sun. Their fluffy cold-weather coats shined in the morning light. Almost in unison, they turned their huge cow heads to look at me, a possible intruder.
Two men, their caretakers, looked from behind the cows to see what had caught their attention.
There is something to be said about people that take care of cows. They certainly don’t pay much attention to anything else. One man was sporting some camouflage overalls and a hunting orange hat. And since I can assume he wasn’t planning to hunt his own cows, he probably just threw on whatever looked warm on this chilly morning.
I moved past the cows as quickly as I could, so as not to disturb their breakfast.