Moo Moo, Buckaroo.

On our way to church Sunday morning, we passed a field of cows.  My in laws live in a small rural town.  This is not a strange thing to pass a field of cows.  To go anywhere.  They looked so beautiful standing there in the frosty grass with the mid-morning sun shining on their backs.

I went back in the afternoon.  But, alas.  The magic was gone.  No more frost.  There were still cows though.  And evening light had replaced morning light.  And I was out of the house with my camera and no little boys.  

As it turns out, I am a little afraid of cows.  Maybe I just have ingrained "stranger danger".  I had never been properly introduced to these cows, after all.  They could have been street tough cows.  Gangsta cows.  Pirate cows.  Money laundering cows.  The possibilities are endless.

My sister-in-law went with me, and she was also a little afraid of the cows.  She stayed in the car.  I should have gotten a photo of her.  Crouching in my Honda Pilot.  Warily eyeing the cows.  Ready to sound the alarm in case one renegade cow had a blade.

See what I mean?  Shifty eyes...

Not to be trusted...

This one was young, but like...  teenage angst young.

Somehow we got out of there alive.

But I don't know how.

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