Parklife
(Cattle and a family in Rickerby Park, Carlisle, England)
Yesterday was such a beautifully balmy, warm day that my mother and I spent much of the afternoon sauntering in the park. Rickerby Park evokes how parks used to be; vast swathes of open land, left fallow with occasional stalwart trees – not a manufactured playground in sight. I imagine the primary reason it covers such a vast area is that it sits on Carlisle’s main (very wide) flood plain and is fairly useless as development land. One of the last times I walked there, it looked rather different, completely iced up. It is however, always frosted with dogs and their owners, whatever the weather. Yesterday, it was stacked with daring adolescent swimmers and the obligatory wiry, middle aged runners.
It feels as if we have all been pining for the longer, greener Spring days for months over the especially hard Winter, that it has actually come as a complete surprise to me now that it has arrived. Suddenly all the trees seem fuller, bursting with leaves and in the park, there are enormous buttery dandelion flowers everywhere underfoot. On the extended journey through Southern Scotland to Carlisle two weeks ago, the new lambs were running from the train in abject fright, revealing their naïve newness with every bound. Pleasingly, cattle are back in the park for the Summer months, roaming free between the cars, runners, dog walkers and with the wandering families – the family in the background here are carrying fishing nets. My sister and I used to be armed with these all Summer. Once we caught an ice cream tub’s worth of live fish in the park and brought them home to put them in the small back garden pond. We were sent directly back to the river to release them under the suspension bridge. At the time, it felt like a great betrayal by our parents, but the nameless fish probably would have infected the beloved goldfish with something noxious, or simply died out of their natural habitat.
Back to the cattle – all these ones are young bullocks, but as such are fairly harmless. I was worried by their lack of udders at first, but we got close without them seeing red, they were just exceptionally curious in a way that only cattle can be. Cows are the worst – they are the most focused of any domestic creature, completely captivated and silent with unadulterated curiosity. This is something that a city the size of Glasgow couldn’t offer; livestock in the public parks, and I find it quite quaint and lovely. That is, until I discover a cowpat by way of my shoe.
– Today Rosie is meeting friends and welcoming her Gran to a sunny weekend in Carlisle –
There are highland cows in Glasgow in Pollock country park
True, but they are behind fences, not roaming around with all the dogs, families and runners. That’s what makes the difference.