If it's not one thing, it's another...

Normally, at work, I'm constantly subjected to an ear-bashing throughout the night by the owls who find that the trees around the site are the most comfortable in a 20-mile radius. Recently, along with the owls, I've heard some other strange noises at night. At first I thought it was a punter, but I soon quashed that thought when I walked around the entire site and realised the noise was coming from outwith the park.

Any noise coming from outside the park is beyond my control. I did check the other buildings nearby, just in case I was missing something.

Once I had established that the noises were not coming from within the park, and a vague direction of where they were coming from, I set off to see if I could pinpoint the source. On the first night, I couldn't because the noise stopped as soon as I left the site.

Last night, the noise seemed to be closer than ever, so I could try and decipher it when it was more clearer than previous occasions. I thought it was someone having some sort of attack or medical emergency in one of the caravan/motorhome fields. After a brief check, I soon realised that no one was around and trying to get my attention to call for emergency assistance.

Again, I was completely baffled by the noise (which did sound like someone shouting, "help" at one stage) and where it was coming from. I decided to take a walk outwith the park and along the road a little. I quickly established that the noise was coming from the other side of the river, and it did sound more human than animal.

A quick run back to the office to grab the most powerful torch and a quick run back to where I heard the noise (who says I don't do any work?). I waited for the noise again, which by this point was becoming more frequent than on previous occasions, and when I managed to gauge roughly where the noise was coming from, I shone the torch across the river to see what it was.

I shone the torch directly across the river and couldn't see anything. I slowly scanned the riverside with the powerful light emitting from the torch, I noticed something move. I directed the beacon of light towards the tall, dead, oak tree. There was an eerie silence, which was briefly interrupted by a punter moving in their squeaky caravan bed, then it happened again. I edged closer to the river and kept the torch on the same spot, hoping to catch a glimpse of this beast. Was I on the verge of a scientific breakthrough? Had I discovered the UK's equivalent of a yeti? Suddenly, the torchlight bounced off something glassy and reflective. I narrowed my eyes and shielded them from the glare. Then the night air was broken from it's calmness by the noise again. I edged as close as I could to the riverside, breaking the silence momentarily when I stepped on a stray branch which snapped under my boot. I peered again. It edged it's way out slowly from behind the tall, dead oak tree. It's black eyes stared across the river at me, it was trying to intimidate me. I knew that I was safe, by the time it had crossed the fast-flowing river I would be back on the site and on the phone to the relevant authorities. Slowly, and carefully, it edged it's way out further. It gave a much quieter drone, almost questionable in sound, as it stared at me. I realised then what had been responsible for the deathly noises over the past few nights. It was a cow.

Yes, it really has been that quiet lately.