Tag: farming
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Guardians of Aireyholme Farm
A gaggle of geese attempt at walking single file down a muddy track. Their military precision was disrupted by the temptation of murky puddles to wallow in. The track leads to a gate into a green field. It’s soggy and well-used, with tyre marks alongside the geese’s footprints. At the top of the field there…
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A Sheep Wash or Something More?
Last Thursday proved quite a trial. We found ourselves trudging along the Miners’ Balcony Path, tracing the contours, with Scot Crag looming above us and Glencoyne below. The wind, oh, it was a fierce adversary, pushing against us with all its might. To make a long tale short, we decided to beat a retreat and…
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Silent Symphony of Sheep
Head down against the driving rain, I sensed unseen eyes upon me. The fleeces of these Aireyholme sheep appeared as fresh as a perm, even after, or more likely because of, the overnight deluge. Despite dwindling numbers, sheep remain the predominant livestock on North York Moors farms. In 2016, the National Park boasted a staggering…
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Raddle me this
I awoke under the weather, got talked into taking a Covid test. Lo-and-behold, the little red line made its appearance, and my ailment took a turn for the worse. Fresh air, my trusty remedy, beckoned. Raindrops drumming on the windowpanes, I embarked on a brief, low-level stroll. “Raddle,” a peculiar term. Readers of Thomas Hardy…
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Beneath Billowing Clouds: A Farmer’s Tale of Timing and Toil
In the rolling pasture that stretches down to the sprawling Dalby Forest, a farmer toils under a billowy sky. In this photograph, from near Low Pasture Farm, he is seizing a precious respite from the recent rain to harvest the bounty of his fields. In this delicate dance with nature, timing is everything. A mere…
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The Unstoppable Sheep—Going Places Without a Sheepdog!
The sheep seem to know where they are going. No need for a sheepdog. He’s off on a jolly ride, perched on the back of the quad bike! I heard a comment today that the National Trust has been encouraging Bransdale tenant farmers to reduce their stocking levels. It’s certainly has made the meadows all…
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“Baa, Baa, Black Sheep!”
Ah, warm sunshine and lambs gambolling in the fields. A sure sign that Spring is here. Everyone knows the nursery rhyme. Once said to have been a proletarian cry in the Middle Ages because the tremendous demand for wool meant that farming land had been turned into pasture for sheep. Thousands of farmhands were thrown…