Bats too in gathering gloom would swoop in fluttering flight to join this feeding frenzy. At pond's outlet amber waters tumbled over a dam of logs endlessly turning a waterwheel. Covered with gravel these steel tubes formed a bridge allowing access to pasture, cabin and one lone cow. Evenings, a small woman crossed this bridge carrying bright, milking pails. Regularly, with watchful dark eyes the Guernsey stood quietly switching her tail aside a milking shed awaiting her benefactor.
Sounds fill human senses.