Getting up at dawn is a habit that is acquired with difficulty, but just this once I couldn’t resist the opportunity to count sheep in a field instead of under the quilt.
Usually the sheep go up a mountain for breakfast, but this time my husband took them down to graze for a few hours in a recently harvested field of barley. Maybe it was this absence of mountain that encouraged me and my (now mended) legs and buttocks into such an early stroll.
The early start is to avoid the heat of the day as the sheep tend to act peculiar when they become too hot. They stop what they are doing and follow each other round in a circle, head to tail for hours on end, like stubborn kids playing some obscure party game. They will do this in full sun, even if there is shade a few metres away and once they begin it is practically impossible to stop them until the weather cools down. Or until they do.
Believe me, it is not really the sort of thing that you want happening when you are stuck up a mountain miles from the sheep barn.
Not that I’ve ever had first hand experience of course.