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Happy New Year
I can hardly resist sharing this photograph of our farm and the surrounding landscape to celebrate the New Year. The picture was taken by a drone when we were making hay in early September (hence the tractor working in the paddock by the house), and it provides a good overview of this piece of country,… Continue reading
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A Bustle in my Hedgerow
The first thing I did was plant a hedge. Within three hours of collecting the keys from the estate agent, I was digging in a line ofhawthorn whips. I had hardly been inside our new house, and focused instead on more important matters. Much of my conservation work is characterized by impatience; a refusal to… Continue reading
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The Shortest Day
After a cold fortnight, the shortest day broke mild and grey. I peered through an open window in the darkness. The morning felt warm and some geese were passing in the cloud. Fields clicked and chattered as they drained the night’s rain, and drips plopped off gutters in the yard. A pair of tractor headlights… Continue reading
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but the devil was in them…
I am drawing together my new book from many disparate and confusing threads. It’s a delight, but it’s hard to pare down a mountain of raw material into something with a coherent structure and narrative. More on this to come, but I can’t resist publishing a quick excerpt from my notes which raised a smile.… Continue reading
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Godwit’s Arrival
Of all the monumental moments recorded in the annals of Working for Grouse, the arrival of Stonehouse Godwit surely ranks amongst the most significant. Small, wide-eyed and profoundly disoriented, the little beast hardly cuts a significant figure, penned as he is in the back of our woodshed. There is more than enough space for him… Continue reading
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Oddballs in Strange Places
Our house has received mixed reviews from the local tradesmen. This building required a good deal of work when we moved in, and all kinds of people have been up to the house over the past six months to provide quotes and services. Few have been able to resist passing comment on the place, and… Continue reading
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Food Critics
Our summer’s hay has received mixed reviews from the galloways. Some bales are beautiful and flossy, but others burst apart in clouds of mould like talcum powder. This mould is horrible stuff, and the heifers combine the powder with their frosty breath until they almost vanish behind a smoke screen. I’m assured that it will… Continue reading
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Bull Surprise
I was confused about dates and got the wrong end of the stick. When I heard that my new bull calf would here in less than a week, I was inclined to panic. I thought I had months to spare before Stonehouse Godwit would arrive in Galloway, and plans were all in place for an… Continue reading
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The Owl
I am of interest to an owl. His first arrival was inelegant. I stared at the ceiling beneath a mound of blankets and counted the last few seconds of peace. My alarm is triggered at 6am, and it has become a habit to wake a few moments early. I usually lie in the darkness for… Continue reading
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Winter Riggits
The galloways continue to take winter in their stride. A good dusting of snow fell on the hill last night, and the beasts were utterly unfazed when I went out to feed them this morning. We have decided not to do pregnancy tests. Finances are tight as we approach Christmas, and I found it hard… Continue reading
About
“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
Also at: https://andtheyellowale.substack.com
Bog Myrtle & Peat 