Growing up, whenever my friends, family and I spotted people excitedly pointing and nattering over cows along the highways we’d break into giggles.
There’d be a car parked on the edge of the road and a group or pair of folks gawking at the livestock over the fence. Eyes would be wide, lips tapping out a frenzied speech and heads whipping side to side as the people glanced from their friends to the exotic beasts before them. Cameras were brought to bear to capture this explicit experience of authentic Canadian prairie wilderness.
Now I suppose I should retire passing judgment on cattle sightseers, since I collect stone churches myself.