The Grass Is Always Greener...

"You've got a cow out by the highway," says the gentleman with a slow drawl who stopped by the house around dusk last night. 
That's the thing about the country.  Strangers will take the time to stop by to tell you you've got a cow out or if something looks amiss.

The herd, grazing on wheat pasture.

Though not terribly intelligent, these large beasts typically let themselves out.  It is very rare that they escape because a gate was left open.  They wiggle and worm their way through less than taught barbed wire fences to graze on the grass on the other side - hence the old expression... you know how it goes.

And, of course, in true country form, another stranger stops along the highway to help us get the old wanderer back in - and even offers to drive around the section with us to help look for holes in the fence.

A simple honk of the horn brings them all, running.

Only in the country... which made me think, if the grass is always greener on the other side, then out here, we must already be on the other side.  Welcome to the farm.