Floating along a Hertfordshire footpath, skirting the grazing fields of a working and fully odourful farm. Running through truck churned slurry and striding through puddles, the mirror like surfaces screaming out to be disturbed from their perfectly serene, glass like state. What a brilliant way to start a lunch time trail run.
Left onto the bridleway and up into the trees, legs quietly complaining about the early introduction of incline.
Over the bridge, to realise how motorways unrelentingly scythe their way through some of the most pristine countryside.
Into the grassy field beyond...
...and I don't know if this is just me, but there is a part of me that really just appreciates a well formed cow pat!!! And what a fine example this is!
Mr Cow. Well played sir! Good form!