This Photo Friday
is a bit of a light-hearted one; it never fails to make me smile and feel a
little uncomfortable at the same time! Let me explain…
Over the years
my family and I have done many walks in the countryside in many parts of
England and Wales as we had lots of camping holidays. We’d buy a book of
circular walks, get the kids into the car, and off we would go. It introduced the kids to the countryside, and
we all got some fresh air and some exercise.
Plus, if I’m being brutally honest, it’s a cheap day out too!
When the kids
were very little they would often either complain that they didn’t want to go,
on the grounds that computer games are far more exciting, or they would just
sulk the whole time we were out. But
now, years later and the kids are all grown up, they have chosen to go on walking
and camping holidays of their own free will with their friends and partners and
they all love the great outdoors, so perhaps there’s a moral in there somewhere!
Anyway, even
though I love going for a walk in the countryside, there is one thing about the
rural life that I am totally terrified about.
It’s cows.
I can’t help it;
I know they don’t bite, or sting, and I know they don’t carry weapons. Despite all attempts at rational thought, I
freeze whenever I see the route of the walk take us through a field that has
cows in it. I used to start off by
trying to persuade hubby that we should walk around the field so we avoid the
cows altogether… but sometimes that’s just not possible. So then I find myself
clamping on to hubby’s hand, and positioning myself behind him, so he is
between me and the cows. My breath comes in short bursts and I feel the urge to
walk really quickly to get away from them.
I’ve even been known to walk quickly through a cow field, head down so as
not to make eye contact with them, all the time muttering under my breath, “Oh
God oh God oh God oh God…” while squeezing hubby’s hand so tight that he was in
pain!
Naturally my
family all found this hilarious and they teased me about it. In our house every cow was called a ‘Killer
Cow’, an assassin trained in martial arts, sworn to hunt me down. I was the only one in our family that didn’t find
that remotely funny!
This photograph
was taken about three years ago while we were on a walk somewhere in Cornwall –
we’d gone on a short camping trip there.
It was a glorious day, lovely weather, great scenery, and I was really
happy… until we rounded a corner and saw these girls! They completely changed my mood and we had to
lengthen the walk by at least a mile because there was absolutely no way I
could bring myself to walk up to these animals, who, as soon as they saw us,
began to crowd around the stile that was the only entrance to the field.
So I put up with
the family teasing me about what they called my irrational fear of Killer Cows
until a couple of years later when hubby had taken himself off fishing. At the end of the day he was faced with a
choice – he had a walk of about an hour to get home, carrying a lot of fishing
gear, or he could take a shorter route that involved a walk across a cow field,
and I would pick him up in the car at the far end of the field… so that’s what
he did. I drove down to the field and
leaned on the gate waiting for him.
Eventually he
appeared in the distance, walking slowly under the weight of all that fishing
gear. Without warning, one of the bigger
cows stopped tugging at the grass and looked at him. Then another cow did the same. Then another…
Suddenly all
three of them started to run at him – I mean, really galloping! They were all
behind him but they were gaining on him rapidly. I shouted at the top of my voice, “Run! Run!”
He heard the panic in my voice and the thundering of the hooves on the ground,
and he didn’t need to be told twice. He
ran towards me and the gate, knowing that was his only escape. I’d never seen him run so fast before, even
though he was weighed down with his gear.
The cows kept up the pace, and I could see the fear in his eyes…
After surprising
me with a turn of speed that would do Usain Bolt proud, he then amazed me by
throwing his gear over the locked gate and doing a vault over it in double
quick speed that would have got a nine out of ten from the judges in an Olympic
gymnastic event! He landed in a heap at
my feet. His face was white. I won’t type out what he actually said but
roughly translated he meant, “Goodness gracious me!”
And guess
what? He’s not teased me about my fear
of Killer Cows once since that day… because he now knows I was right all along!
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