Basking in the Limelight.

I was up a ladder today, trimming down the heavy growth of ivy, clematis, and other sundry growth which crowns the top of my garden shed and hangs down either side like a duvet on a double bed, when I became aware of being watched.

Being near the top of the ladder, my head and torso were above the tall hedge which stands between my garden and the field beyond, and four young bulls – about a year old I would say –were watching my progress with a very great deal of interest. I assume this was the first time in their short lives to date that they had been privy to the sight of half a human apparently sitting on top of a hedge, waving a long green thing about and making a noise with which they were entirely unfamiliar.

I said ‘Hello, boys, nice to see you,’ but no reply was forthcoming. I hoped I might get a moo or a bellow by way of greeting, approbation, astonishment, or sheer delight, but they remained silent, watching intently like a group of children on their first visit to the circus. Clearly they were rendered speechless by the most riveting performance they’d ever experienced, and I was content to be the star of the show for once.