The bobby calf

Out walking yesterday evening near Kilmartin to fill in some green squares. It was a beautiful evening and the first time this year that I’ve even contemplated going into the hills in just a tee-shirt and without a day-sac with waterproofs and other paraphenalia. The ground was relatively dry after three or four very sunny days and it was a delightful walk across moorland and bog, bagging a trig point en route.
I came to an area where there were lots of ruins of old farms and settlements. Quite a strange place, where the ghosts of roads and gardens looked out from the lumps and bumps on the ground, but a peaceful and quiet place to live and make a living, I would have thought.
New-born calf
Near Achayerran, which is what I later found this place to be called, I found this calf completely on its own; there were no other cattle at all visible anywhere within sight. I checked it over and it semed to be in very good health. Concerned it might have been left behind when the beasts were taken off the hill, I went around to the farm after I’d returned to my car and had a chat with the farmer. He told me that it wasn’t uncommon for the mother to move away grazing with the rest of the herd and return later for the calf. He was aware that one of his beasts had calved in the location and knew about the calf. He went on to tell me a lot about this part of the hill which I wouldn’t have found out otherwise. He was quite pleased that someone had taken the time and interest to let him know about the calf.


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