The cows roam about freely on the Common Pasture, the ancient grazing meadow which forms a beautiful approach from the west into the Yorkshire market town of Beverley. This year there seem to be more cattle than ever which may be an indication of hard times amongst the local farmers in exploiting the lush acres or just the exercising of the bylaws and rights of the Freemen and Women to keep animals on the undulating terrain.
The sight of a few hundred cows is striking but with the downside that they have no understanding of how to cross a busy road and no qualms about leaving large cowpat deposits in their wake.
The consequences for visitors and regulars alike are frequent emergency stops for vehicles and for care to be taken in footfalls for pedestrians.
A tight knit group of young heifers can be intimidating as they amble along with a sense of inquisitiveness in the humn activities of picnicking, walking the dog and throwing sticks into trees to dislodge the first conkers.
A prone figure, enjoying a quiet snooze can find themselves completely surrounded by a mass of muscley beef with menace for an intrusion into their territory.
I find the presence of the vast herd as a timeless feature in the place where I spent my formative years. Yes, a face full of cow dung on a sticky football is sobering and one of my schoolmates died after colliding with a beast on his motorbike but in a rapidly changing world there is still some reassurance from the sights, sounds and odours of the pasture.
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