A lot of Bull

Mr Bull is a big fella.

I spotted him when I set out on my morning walk. He was having a bit of a snooze closer to the shore of Crummock. I trotted by and enjoyed other sights.

Sights like these autumnal colours, illuminated by the rising sun.  It’s the sort of beauty that causes you to fill your lungs and hold your breath.

Reassuring and earthy beauty – puddles to splash through and the sound of birds and water. And the odd sheep.

I stood in the softening shade of Rannerdale Knotts and looked through a gate.  Across the water, cloud shadows skittered across Melbreak.

On the way home, Mr Bull was closer to the road. I’d not had such a good view of him, so I stopped to admire Himself.

He gave me a long, hard look.

Perhaps he’s a real softy… but that stone wall was a comforting barrier.

Mr Bull judged me to be of no threat and no hindrance.

He continued to munch the green grass, and I ambled off homeward for a breakfast of my own.

Does anyone recognize  what breed of cattle Mr Bull belongs to?  My initial guess is Charolais, because of his woolly topknot. Just guessing, though.


Herdy Girl

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