The dogs and I had enjoyed our hike on Tyringham Cobble but were now almost to the end. I knew from my internet search previews that there was a unique rock formation called "Bunny Rock" which people often photographed, but we'd somehow missed it. I felt as if I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But then, rounding a bend, the famous Bunny Rock loomed up ahead of us:
When we'd reached it, I climbed up onto its lower portion and snapped a photo of the town and valley below us. I confess that I never did see any bunny in it:
Leaving Bunny Rock, we continued through the wintry woodland and passed another downed tree which the loggers had converted to firewood ready for splitting:
"This was fun, Dad. Can we go all the way around the cobble one more time?":
We continued angling downhill towards the trail head. In order to avoid a steep, snowy and much used section of trail, I opted to stay in the deeper snow and make my own trail. You can tell by my slide mark how well that worked for me. The only thing hurt was my dignity:
We're approaching civilization now. The cow pasture lies just below the barbed wire:
I could see the red barn near the trail head in the field below:
We stepped over (or, in Fergus' case, under) a sagging spot in the fence and struck off in the direction of the trail head:
Fergus is such a well behaved dog when he's tired!:"
The dogs trotted over to the barn and became so enchanted by the bovine smells that they refused to come when called, at least for a minute or two. But when I began walking toward them, they realized I was in a mood to put a decisive end to disobedience and quickly came running to me as if to say, "Oh, was that you who was calling us? We thought it was someone else, but now that we know it's you we're happy to obey."
This is the end of the hike, but of course I couldn't resist taking photos of some of the grand homes in Tyringham as we began our journey back to Albany. I'll make one more post showing the houses of the village before moving on to a different subject: