Say cheese


Paddock of sheep, great photo opportunity.
Excellent.
Happy, smiling sheep until you reach the fence line.
Seriously.
Instantly camera shy. He/she I can’t tell. But he turned around and showed his bottom to me instead of the moments-ago happy smiling munching.
I suppose I don’t like to be watched while I eat, and certainly don’t like to have a camera shoved in my face during this sacred time so I suppose I can’t blame him really.
He could have been a star.
He may still become famous, or perhaps infamous for his umm dirty bottom.
Perhaps he could sense that I have lamb shanks in my fridge ready for roasting. He could just tell. Don’t blame him really for not grinning madly momentarily into the little black box. He did the best thing really, he noticed me then ignored me and carried on eating. A true foodie. Sure his diet doesn’t have much variety, grass, followed by grass and then more grass. But who am I to say what is boring when it comes to menu planning. At least he doesn’t have to think, he just knows, he thinks about other important things like which post is best to scratch himself, where his sister is, which corner of the paddock has the best grass, where to go when it rains, windy or sunny. Things like that. Perhaps he doesn’t think at all. Just eats. Doesn’t that sound like bliss or perhaps not?
Are you coming back as a sheep? Or are you still thinking about the lamb shanks in the fridge.

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