Before the sun casts its first rays through our bedroom window, these young heifers, last year's weaners, are up at the front fence. Only given access to this paddock in the past week, they think they're rather special being able to come so close to the house.
And at the first sight of human movement, they start their morning conversation, a series of low, plaintive bellows, letting us know it's dry. That they aren't feeling satisfied by their diet of dry lick and even drier, browner grass.
What they don't realise is that we're already fully aware of the climatic situation.
For as they're peering in, we're sitting at our laptops, sipping the morning's first coffee and peering at the ten-day forecast.
They have their morning ritual, we have ours.