When we moved back to a rural life, in the Peak District, I had it sussed. “Here we are, back to mediocrity”, I said. For certain, I now have to apologise. Yet, I must not be too fulsome. The bins and waste food collection is the worst we have experienced in over 20 years. Finding what you want in the shops can be dire. Shops and cafes also close at absurd times, like 2pm. Self praise is everywhere; we supply the finest fish and chips in the UK. They don’t, they were ordinary, soggy chips. The best one is, “All day opening” for which follows, “Open 12 to 9pm.” However, something has impacted on me and this is amply described as contented countryside life.

Bovines

Brown cow eyes is a fair description of me, but what about the real bovines. For certain, they come in so many colours and types. Here, they are often found in remote stone walled fields. These fields are linked by green roads, these also stone walled and filled with wildflowers. Consequently, the cows are isolated from our noisy, oil fueled world. They also have community. You find them, in a corner of a field, clumped tightly together. They lick everything and not least their calves. Sometimes, in a field golden with buttercups, as in my photo, they chew the cud in silence, and the world appears a very beautiful place.

Contented countryside life

Consequently, I find Ann and I leaning on a gate, peering into a field. It is warm, the cows are given hell by the flies (did God create those?) However, the word content does not do them justice. Their coats glow with health. In amongst them is the bull, a creature of ridiculous glory. He is huge, all bulging muscles, constantly sniffing various members of his harem. He took it further as all about lie his progeny, the calves. They look adorable and stare at us in all innocence. “What is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare”. Yes, I learnt that poem by Welshman W.H.Davies in my schooldays. Here I am, in sheer contentment, in the countryside. Its a revelation!