Wednesday, 11 July 2012

How now, brown cow?

Upon request, I am sharing my pictures of the prancing cows of Sweden. Earlier this spring, I, along with my mother and grandmother, attended my very first 'kosl├Ąpp,' when they let the cows out to pasture. The barn doors to the local dairy farm Norrmejerier were finally swung open to spring, and the cows ecstatically darted headlong into green open fields. It was quite an event. Hundreds of people showed up, and all were treated to cinnamon buns and milk at the makeshift tents to celebrate the cow and all she provides for the Swedish people.

 In Sweden, our superheroes are cows.

Grandmother's iconic bun

 The hero of the day

A boy waits and watches patiently from beneath the brim of his cap.

And they're off!

They frolicked into the field, swollen udders swinging contemptuously as they took the first prancing steps of spring. They headbutted! They leapt! They cavorted with ease!

Even Captain America came to see the sights.

 One finely-fuzzed lady brought her own camera.

And the day is not complete without diving deep into sweet hay in the hayloft. (The children did, that is, and not the cows.)


C. Lowe said...

Oh Sanna! I want to see frolicking cows! How delightful!

S.L. Gabriel said...

They were indeed! I hope you get to see frolicking cows of your own.