Latrine

I sat with my friend Anni next to a pond at lunchtime, and we realised we were in the middle of the latrine used by the (usually) placid cattle herd that grazes the meadows around Coe Fen. We were surrounded by urinating and defecating inquisitive cattle covered in flies, but we still had a rip-roaring discussion about lots of cool stuff.

Work was filled by what Sara correctly coined ‘soul-crushing admin.’