The cows are milked

In Bayrischzell, in a cozy barn full of happy cows, I’m standing at the entrance with my camera ready. The barn smells like hay and fresh milk – and a little bit like what cows tend to leave behind, but that’s part of the charm. The cows are lined up neatly, calmly in their places, enjoying their feed while being pampered by the milking machine. It’s basically like a wellness retreat on the farm, just with more udders.

So here I am at the entrance, armed with my camera, feeling a bit like a paparazzo – but for cows. Instead of flashing lights, there's only the soft clicking of my camera and the rhythmic chewing of the cows, like a gentle melody filling the barn.

Cow 17, the born diva, has already spotted me. She turns her head in my direction, as if to say, "Yes, I know you want to snap me. Just wait, I’ll show you my best side." And sure enough, she shifts slightly, her distinctive cow gaze locking straight into the camera. Click! Another perfect shot. Do cow models have Instagram?

From my post at the barn entrance, I can see the other cows too, peacefully munching away. Cow 24, who’s always a bit shy, glances over at me briefly, but then dives right back into her food. She’s not interested in fame – she’s here for the hay and milk production.

The cows seem to enjoy the show, while I, as a respectful photographer, stay right at the entrance, capturing them from a distance. It’s a win-win situation: they get their food and milking routine, and I get my photos. No unnecessary chaos, no cow complaining about my shoes. Just how I like it – and probably how the cows prefer it, too.

As I finally leave the barn, satisfied with my shots, I feel a bit like the Ansel Adams of rural tranquility. The cows go back to their business, and I’ve got my photos. Perfect harmony – at least until I return with my camera at the barn door again!