Hell has no Fury like a Bolting Pedegree Herd
I popped down to a minus four degree Centigrade Wilden Marsh early this morning, to move the winter herd from North Pasture to Top Field.
My mobile rang as I leisurely wandered across the pasture to open the gate to the Tenants Farmer’s Field Corridor. It was an unexpected call from the Rangers telling me they were also on the marsh to move the herd. More hands less work!
I ended the video as the cattle entered the South Riverside Pasture. A low flying helicopter growled menacingly directly above; it was so low I could have hit it with a rock. It flew back and forth, inspecting power lines and making a terrible row in the process – something to be avoided when moving cattle. Obviously, the cattle took exception to what must have appeared to them to be a large, yellow, raucous flying insect intent on attacking them, so they bolted in all directions as you would expect.
Five of us eventually cajoled and drove the cattle, amongst much protest mooing, through Marsh Farm Field and safely up the ramp into Top Field. What a good job the Rangers turned up.
The Rangers left to continue their busy cattle wrangling schedule elsewhere, and I returned to a sedate and peaceful mooch through a wet Marsh Farm Field and a very wet Orchid Field; crossing the rickety wooden bridge into a waterlogged Rhombus Field and through the spongy Flooded Wood Pasture; along the riverbank, past the heronry, wading through the scrapes, down into the North Riverside Pasture, along Hoo Brook Corridor and into Hoo Brook Pasture and home.