It’s coming home – our winter hay

I can’t remember such a prolonged stretch of hot, dry weather.

This has caused problems for many farmers but not us.

Settled weather has allowed us to mow acres of meadowland and make some of the best herb-rich hay that we have had in many years.

Hay fever was upon us, not the bleary eyed type though. This was the pure joy of being outside, raking hay off the banks, picnics in the fields under the trees and the satisfaction of filling the stone barns with winter fodder.

It was hard work, my knees and forearms are scuffed and scratched from loading bales on to a flat trailer. All of my TRAILER JOY: Annas, Miles, Violet and Edith extremities are riddled with bites from the midges and horseflies. As for my hands – rough doesn’t even cover it.

Wednesday evening we loaded our last trailer of hay. The evening sun cast a mellow glow and the children, happy but grubby, begged to ride home on the trailer.

It wasn’t far to go and usually the answer would have been a flat no but I capitulated and was so glad that I did so.

On a slow ride home we had a bird’s eye view of beautiful Swaledale, we saw deer, birds and hares but not another living soul. Everyone seems to have been watching England.

“It’s not coming home Mam,” said Miles miserably later when he heard the score.

“No, but the hay has,” I said, “and that is wonderful, we’re now ready for winter.”