As the last vestiges of pinkness fade from the grey clouds and lethargic turbine blades indicate a reduced wind speed, it is very peaceful here at Tense Towers tonight.
This is generally considered to be a good thing.
For the previous few days, there has been very little in the way of peace and quiet hereabouts.
Part of the reason for this has been the Aberdeen Angus bull featured in my last post. When I say 'part', I mean fifty per cent. The other fifty per cent can be attributed to a Shorthorn bull.
Black Angus (as he shall be known), along with a single cow (name unknown, but she has a fierce stare) are inhabiting the paddock below our home. A mixed herd of about a dozen and a half cattle, mainly Shorthorns, has been occupying the large field over the road from the house.
The upshot of all this is that Black Angus is rather taken with the ladies of the Shorthorn herd and is not backward in coming forward in letting everyone know about it. The Shorthorn bull isn't too impressed with this state of affairs and has been keen to make his displeasure known. Volubly.
So at regular intervals during the day, the closest point between the two fields has been Bovine Central, with much posturing, low frequency rumblings and out-and-out bellowing. In the local dialect, this is known as boglan, from the verb to bogle. Tense Towers is effectively at ground zero for these exchanges, which makes for an interesting period between first light and the time when our alarm clock goes off. It's not quite the spectacle of a Red Deer rut, but what the bulls lack in panache, they make up for in decibels.
This evening, it appears that the Shorthorn herd has been moved again. So we're left with the brooding silence of the heavyweight stare that the single cow is bringing to bear upon Black Angus.
Boy, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes.