Readily seen from the round barrows upon the western flanks of Cold Kitchen Hill - which, incidentally, possesses a frankly superb long barrow to the east - it would've been rude not to have dropped in before heading home. So I did. Although, to be honest, another such monument - near the Court Hill plantation across the way - was beckoning, too. Some other time, perhaps?
Parking at the spacious entrance to Dairy Farm, I peered under the hedge before sussing that an (unsigned) public footpath actually runs past the site, entering the field from the bend in the minor road a little to the south-east. It's immediately obvious that the view from on high does not deceive.... this is a very substantial round barrow, indeed, set within verdant pastureland. However herein lies the problem... literally, in the form of the bovine occupants of the field. Yeah, sadly - disgracefully - it would appear the southern flank of the monument has been seriously damaged by the clambering actions of said creatures, much of it crumbling away, in fact.
Ascending, carefully, to the flat summit of the mound to investigate further, the sight of several fresh cow pats tell their own story to these incredulous eyes. Hey, I'm well aware cows are able to climb... but, in my not inconsiderable experience, this is unique... the damage so appallingly obvious, yet preventable. Words fail me, they really do. How can the landowner not see this is wrong? I mean, HOW?
What price a simple fence to protect a priceless part of the locality's ancient heritage? This is no mere eroded, grassy bump in the corner of a field. Oh no, this is a fine, seriously upstanding Bronze Age monument, mute testimony to those who worked this land before. I return to the car intent upon asking 'why?', only to see the farmer (I presume) disappearing down the road in his tractor. Perhaps it is as well...