June 3rd – I found myself riding home through Walsall Wood and on through Brownhills in a gorgeous golden hour. The coos of Jockey Meadows were waiting at the gate, and keen to investigate me as I stopped to take their picture.
On the canal, the greens are still magnificent, and something about the light and water interacted and made the evening precious.
May19th – I set off in reasonable weather. The coos of Jockey Meadows knew best, and were lying down.
Always pay attention to the coos. They know what they’re doing.
(Thanks to Susan Marie Ward who got that ‘coos’ is the correct regional pronunciation for these dribbly, nosey, sagacious and truly meteorologically insightful bovines).
May 11th – This evening when I passed Jockey Meadows, the cattle were obligingly close to the field gate – and what handsome fellows they are. I think there are ten in total, and it looks like they’e been having a paddle in the mud. The work they do is essential – cropping fast growing species, churning the ground up and spreading the poo love.
They are collected in the evening, and I wondered if they were waiting for their lift, which raises again my occasionally mused question that they must regard this as work, and knock off at a set time.
Coos are more intelligent than we give them credit for, I feel.
Meanwhile, at the far side of the meadow, a small group of deer were loafing in the reeds. This place really is alive right now.
May 7th – I notice that on Jockey Meadows, the pasture field that’s genuinely a water meadow is now staffed by a heard of beef cattle again. About 10 or 12 large animals are browsing the scrub in an effort to maintain it – the cows eat the fast growing plants, and give the slow-growers chance. They also spread the fertile love in the form of cowpats.
Every time I passed them this week, the coos have been far over the other side. Only did I notice when I’d zoomed in that a passing heron was doing his bit too.
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