Recorded near Island Lake in the Tahoe National Forest. It is late morning. On the hike out to the lake, the landscape is soothingly green and lush. The panorama of mountains, streams, and towering Jeffrey Pines with moss-covered trunks is a postcard image of wilderness. But in the distance is a noise, a soft clanging that is out of place. Perhaps music from an inconsiderate camper’s radio? Someone trying to scare off a bear? I hike toward the sound and eventually spot the source at the bottom of the hill, lazily eating alongside the lake: grazing cattle. Amid the more usual sights of the Sierra Mountains, the presence of cows is surprising. I slowly walk down the hill towards them, careful not to startle, and set up my recording gear at the edge of the lake. Among the sounds of lapping water, singing birds, and rustling leaves, the percussive clatter of the cowbells create rhythmic phrases that emerge and then vanish — the complicated, evolving, hypnotic polyrhythm of the bovines’ grazing gestures.