Why I love SW Virginia
This picture is one of my absolute favorites - the beauty of southwest Virginia in May.
I crossed through a number of pastures today. At one stile, there was a handwritten note 'beware of bull-shit'. OK, well, that's always a powerful cautionary tale, distilled down to three words. I climbed the stile. A handful of cows up off to one side, the trail follows a rise over this hill, with the fenceline in the distance, and a stile.
As I trod through the pasture, I look over to the cows. One of them isn't a cow. Or rather, she's a cow with pronounced horns and - oh- that wasn't an udder. Watching me. I come abreast of this little herd, and cow with horns takes a few steps toward me, just a casual footfall or two. THAT's what the sign meant!
I quicken my pace. He starts strolling toward me. It wasn't so much a race to the fence -- I only had 40 feet to cover, but I kick it to the stile. Bull is trotting after me, gaining. I'm over the stile before he's within 20 feet. Blowing out his nostrils. Showing a puny 170 lb primate that weight, and horns, have an advantage.
Note should have read: 'Beware of Bull, no shit.' I pull out my little notebook, jot that down, rip out the page and wedge it into a crack in the stile handle.