About a mile or so from my house is a farm. It is located on Thurman Road, which is named for the farmer, Mr. Thurman. When I go in town, I pass by Mr. Thurman's farm and when I do I always look for his cows.
The pasture where they graze is a swath of green. The slight slope of the land catches early morning fog, a shallow bowl full of grey mist. My favorite time to pass the farm is then, just as the first rays of sunshine are breaking through creating a sharp divide between light and shadow. It is beautiful. But, the cows are the stars of the show.
My husband called me last night to tell me that the cows were up in the front field and I might want to get my camera. Apparently he was listening when I said I need to bring my camera along with me at all times so that I can take photos of the cows. I packed up my camera, got in the truck (which I have now named Tula, because it sounds nicer) and drove to the farm.
Here is what I saw. (It is very humid here in Georgia and my lens kept fogging up. I rather like the result though.)