Our present wave of Mediterranean weather is not being kind to our shaggy coated Highland Cattle. Today my PC tells me it is 30 ‘ C / 86 ‘ F. Phew for us as well as for them. They probably wish they were in Reykjavik where, according to the Norwegian YR Weather site, it is a cool 12 ‘C / 54 ‘ F. Greenland, on the other hand, is probably too cold for comfort, even by MacMoo standards of insulation. It seems to be sunny there today, but the temperature is between MINUS 18 and –20 ’C / –4 ’F.
Apparently July and August are the warmest months in Greenland with temperatures between 0‘ C and 10’C. So: not much summer in the Arctic at present. It’s much like life really. For every high, somewhere there’s a corresponding low. Meanwhile the MacMoos slumber on in Cutlins meadow in whatever shade they can find.
When we walked into town yesterday down the Cutlins path we pleased to see members of the McMoo clan back in the meadow. And a little family group by the looks of it – daddy, mummy and junior McMoo.
And the parents all but canoodling while offspring was exploring the peripheries of the town’s electricity substation.
On the return trip, shopping accomplished, we found the local jackdaws had discovered the McMoos too. They were busy plucking the bull’s winter coat for a spot of nest building material.
Square Tops #12
It doesn’t take much to keep us Farrells amused, or should that be amoosed. Anyway, since the highland cattle took up residence in the Cutlins meadow, it has added a whole new dimension to popping to the High Street for some milk. I can report that Mammy and infant MacMoo who featured in earlier posts, have been moved to pastures new, and now we have only four junior MacMoos with whom to pass the time of day. But they are pretty obliging when it comes to a photo shoot, although all in all, they would much rather eat hay. Just like us, then, it seems they are easily pleased.
Spiky Squares #25
The last day of February, and we had been promised a change in the weather, an elemental side-swipe from the Atlantic bringing an end to our surprise spring fling and our ‘nearly 10 degrees warmer than usual’. So I thought I’d better get this written yesterday as a small celebration of a final perfect day (cue Lou Reed). At lunchtime the errand of posting a letter turned into a full-scale ramble around the town. It had to be done. The sun was hot, the air still, and the lane to Downs Mill beckoned. But first there were the highland cattle to commune with, and bees and tortoiseshell butterflies in the Cutlins cherry blossom, and on the lane past the priory ruins there were sunny banks of violets and celandines, while in the parkland fields on either hand, sheep-mothers-to-be were quietly grazing, waiting for lambs to happen.
Here, then, are some scenes from my perfect Much Wenlock day. Thank you, beneficent nature entities, and especially for all those happy humming bees in the cherry tree.
And now for the ‘aaah’ moment:
P.S. The weather people were right. We woke to rain on the skylight and grey skies and February more as we know it.
Changing Seasons: February 2019
One of the very best things about living in a rural town like Much Wenlock is that you can be setting off for the shops to buy ordinary stuff like a local newspaper or half a dozen eggs, and come upon small happenings of one sort or another. So here we are. As we slipped and slid down the muddy path that brings you first to the Priory ruins, and thence to the town centre, we met up with a new batch of Highland Cattle recently ensconced in the Cutlins meadow. Teenage moos, I should think. Not fully grown anyway. They were certainly most curious, and so posed nicely to have their photos taken. Or at least two of them did. The third was too busy eating breakfast.
Yum! Lovely crunchy hay. So important to keep well stoked up in this cold snap.
Six Word Saturday Pop over to Debbie’s at Travel With Intent for some truly striking photos.