Last weekend we went to the beach, actually four beaches. Paul was scouting potential surf spots for later in the year. (Fall’s windy weather produces better waves. Wetsuit? Check!) So we drove over and down, to the Mediterranean coast. It was a gorgeous day, sunny skies, warm water. And between the four beaches, we stopped for coffee, sandwiches and gelato.
Then we took the long way home, up a winding road through the countryside. Rougher and drier than Umbria and Tuscany, these hills reminded me of arid eastern Washington with scrappy trees and bushes everywhere.
When we saw these guys, we knew we were off the beaten path. Highway, yes. Beaten path, no.
Complete with bell.
I haven’t seen a cow with a collar since we had our own when I was a kid, Gretel. She wore it well but certainly never had a sign posted in her honor. Even the cows have it good in Italy.