Wet

I missed the Highland cows when they disappeared from Redhills Pasture on Arnside Knott a few years ago.  I had a lot of fun blipping them as their calves were born, and I began to recognise their distinct personalities.  Here in Worsendale there is a small herd of highlands, a group of diverse colours and ages.  This is I suppose one of the matriarchs, and she has a good set of handlebars.  There is no footpath through their pasture, so I cannot get as close as I could with the Arnside herd, which is perhaps just as well, as there are no gorse and hawthorn bushes to duck behind when they take too close an interest in the photographer.  In those days, they were more interested in Gus than me, and he was very deft at keeping out of their way while doing nothing to excite their interest too much.

Anyway, I do the walk up Worsendale several times a week, it's a stiff walk by local standards that takes me to the highest point of the Wolds, and is maintaining my cardiovascular fitness.  The highlands are a distraction for a quick stop halfway up.  It was a wet day today, so they had their best bedraggled look.

Thank you so much to all my old blip pals for dropping by and welcoming me back after my prolonged absence.  And thank you to my old pal Bern who while not being a blipper, has an uncanny knack of tuning in and spotting a new blip when one appears even after a gap of eight months.  I'm still a day behind.