Look at these bovines just going about their humdrum workaday livestock business, patiently waiting their turn at the community watering hole. They're probably gossiping about how Janice lost her pin money on the slots last night and cried herself to sleep. Again. Aww, Janice. You'll get 'em next time.
We ran in the Rockefeller State Park Preserve this morning, which is outside of Sleepy Hollow. THE Sleepy Hollow, of Ichabod Crane fame. On our way through town we drove past a restaurant called The Horseman. I looked for heads but found none (lol, Jay Leno-type topical humor). We saw three deer on the trail and many cows in the pasture, lyme disease TBD. It was hilly and quiet and serene, in spite of its official designation as an IBA (Important Bird Area). You should go, if you have a car. If you don't have a car you're screwed. That's the lifestyle tax you pay to be American, ding dongs.