Riding With Cows

Riding With Cows


Cattle take no sabbath

neither do I.

We both take the same one-lane road early Sunday morning.

We make room for each other although

a black Angus could crush me if it cared.

It does not care.

One white teenaged bull races

me, running alongside my 21-speed,

looking over its shoulder directly into my sunglassed eyes.

I pass it.

I do not look back.


  1. Yikes!

  2. I reside in cow country
    this is perfect
    and the look on each bovine face
    as it asks
    “what do you want from me? I’m a cow”

  3. No. They don’t care, do they?

    As i was reading this, I remembered a scene from the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?when they pick up Baby-Face George and he starts shooting out the car windows and into a herd of cattle. Someone in the car says, “No, George, not the livestock!”

    I didn’t imagine you’d be shooting any cattle while on your bicycle, though. Still, that’s the way my brain works sometimes 🙂

  4. That white teenaged bull could crush you, gore you, kick you, destroy you. I was always wary of the bull on the farm where I grew up, tiptoeing quietly, carefully, heart thumping in fear as I had to sort of inhabit more or less the same space.

    I love how you pedal on, strong, looking straight ahead without looking back. You can leave that scary beast in the dust. He can’t reach you now.

  5. Oh, man. I wouldn’t look back either. You are so brave, Megan. In every way I can think of.

  6. Probably the highlight of his day…