Ruminating The Ethical Import of Some Contemporary Concerns

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In this book, instead of expressing my views in the form of letters between fictional correspondents, I keep firmly to the first person. I realise that my ruminations spring originally from a very distant but pleasant root. The ground could not have been wet for there I was, amidst buttercups in flower, gazing at the sky. I must have dozed, for the next thing I remember is the sound of the wrenching of grass in the manner in which cows do this, and feeling a warm breath of air on my face. I opened my eyes and there was a cow gazing at me, kindly taking me for granted and being good enough not to tread on me. She was ruminating and I started ruminating too. Being not so rational as featherless bipeds are reckoned to be, my ruminations centre on matters which either lead to a cul-de-sac or an endless path which I am happy enough to follow a far as I wish, and then leave it hanging in the air fo others to think about.