Musings from the Merse
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Bull and a Cock as well.
If the season is right, like now, with the odd large field lying fallow and cropped by animals, there is no need to flog out to Duns for a spot of golfing practice. Farmer C's big field, beyond the old Glebe field (which is ploughed and therefore too challenging even for a recovery club) is ideal for an intensive practice session. A small drawback -see the image- are the black cows, unusually late in the year, enjoying the pasture. But cows are no real impediment. Tough hides are good protection should one slightly miscue and although there is a small danger of having your favourite Titleist 3 swallowed you will always get it back; eventually. It goes through four stomachs and emerges no worse for wear- certainly nothing that a quick lick and a polish can't take care of.
Setting off with a song in my heart and 20 balls in my pockets I was admiring the black ruminants as I wondered whether to play a 4 or 5 iron. Just before I hit I glanced up to reassess my line when in my peripheral vision I detected a steady if stealthy movement. Out of the ruck of All Blacks a dun brown animal detached itself and was heading in my direction; strange; unusual to mix the species. Well built for a heifer or even a Bullock and behold-swing low sweet chariots-large ones as well.
Satiated it may have been; lethargic possibly but I was not risking any post coital tristesse. Up with the ball and out of the gate.
Closing it very carefully behind me.
Its the 10 miles to Puton Mill Driving Range after all.
(* if you click to enlarge the image and look right you will just see the Brown Job lurking behind one of cows-sadly thecow in question is obscuring his credentials)
If the season is right, like now, with the odd large field lying fallow and cropped by animals, there is no need to flog out to Duns for a spot of golfing practice. Farmer C's big field, beyond the old Glebe field (which is ploughed and therefore too challenging even for a recovery club) is ideal for an intensive practice session. A small drawback -see the image- are the black cows, unusually late in the year, enjoying the pasture. But cows are no real impediment. Tough hides are good protection should one slightly miscue and although there is a small danger of having your favourite Titleist 3 swallowed you will always get it back; eventually. It goes through four stomachs and emerges no worse for wear- certainly nothing that a quick lick and a polish can't take care of.
Setting off with a song in my heart and 20 balls in my pockets I was admiring the black ruminants as I wondered whether to play a 4 or 5 iron. Just before I hit I glanced up to reassess my line when in my peripheral vision I detected a steady if stealthy movement. Out of the ruck of All Blacks a dun brown animal detached itself and was heading in my direction; strange; unusual to mix the species. Well built for a heifer or even a Bullock and behold-swing low sweet chariots-large ones as well.
Satiated it may have been; lethargic possibly but I was not risking any post coital tristesse. Up with the ball and out of the gate.
Closing it very carefully behind me.
Its the 10 miles to Puton Mill Driving Range after all.
(* if you click to enlarge the image and look right you will just see the Brown Job lurking behind one of cows-sadly thecow in question is obscuring his credentials)
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