Arcadia

It's not the mountains, the storms, the wind, bears, boars or the wolves that worry me, it's a field full of doey-eyed milk and meat machines.

This morning a gang rushed over to check me out, I had to make a quick swerve under an electric fence. Not pleasant. You're supposed to shout, but you can hardly hear anything over the racket of their bells. Advice sought.

Similarly with farm dogs. Nasty beasts.