Village traffic

I was driving to the children's school to pick them up at 12.30 (junior classes in primary school end at this time, unless the children attend optional all-day school), when I met up with this flock of sheep, which was being directed by their shepherd (a middle-aged gent). He was taking them either to a dairy station for milking or another greener field for grazing. (I haven't worked that one out yet).

As the sheep left the fields and came closer to the residential zone of the village, the fields and the lawns and the private gardens all became one to them. Most continued along the road, heeding the shepherd's commands, but those on the side of the road kept diverting to the greener parts of the houses. As they greedily downed what they could, they would suddenly realise that the rest of the flock was moving on, so they would make a dash out of the gates of the houses, and trot off to join the rest of the flock. I imagined they were thinking something along the lines of "Four feet good, two feet bad."

Whoever said that traffic lights hold up the traffic? The last set of traffic lights southbound of the town is about six kilometres from this point.