The bank holiday, although a day like any other on the farm, is an excuse to take it a bit easy.

Saturday night the clocks had fallen back. In the morning, using the small household ladder, Tim had taken down the kitchen clock to change the time. As he adjusted the hands, I noted the dull face of the clock. I asked Tim to wait while I got a damp cloth to clean it. I wiped the face of the clock, carefully making sure to get into all the curves around the rim. Then, satisfied with my job, I got a dry cloth to shine it. I handed the clock back to Tim.

Taking it, he said: “Not in a million years would I think of cleaning the clock. I’d have just changed the time.

“Surely you’d have seen the grime on it?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he quipped. We agreed that was the difference between men and women.

That morning I noted that the view from my bedroom window had changed, or maybe I just had time and light to notice. The leaves on the Boston ivy were blood red. I decided it was a good time for a walk. The dogs, Shadow, Nala and Speedy, were delighted to see me shaping up for a walk.

Tim and Diarmuid were already milking. I dropped them off the milk bucket. I’ve reverted to my mother’s habit of skimming the gallon for cream. With the last butter fat test reading 5.4% and protein 4.05%, it’s easy to get the cream off after it has rested in the fridge overnight. It’s scrumptious in beef stroganoff. There’s a real satisfaction about exploiting the versatility of milk.

Milk solids have been high all year, but with the herd yield dropping as lactations end, we’re nearly drinking cream.

WOODLAND BEAUTY

I continued past the collecting yard where the faithful ladies just turned their heads in acknowledgement of my presence. There’s a wood at the back of the yard with a cow roadway alongside it. It’s quite steep but living on top of a hill means that some access points are naturally steep and necessitate a climb for farmers and cows.

My usual route is out one side and around the contour of the hill. It takes about 30 minutes. This day, the 31 October, I stood there captivated by the beauty of autumn. I had the time to pause. So often, we rush around not taking in our surroundings, not experiencing our changing landscape and the joys that nature provides. The hues of creams, browns, burnt umber, orange and reds were just amazing.

Already there was a multi-coloured golden carpet along the lane. The odd cow hoof print was visible through the leaves, indicative of the dry spell. Over the stone ditch, in the wood, the covering of leaves was total, deep and comforting.

The trees stood absolutely still, making no sound in acknowledgement of the process in train. As I watched, I noticed that there was a constant rain of leaves from the trees. They fell silently, fluttering gently down to the ground below. Each one made its own gentle noise. It went on and on like the patter of rain, getting louder as I concentrated on the noise. It signposted how much we miss in our busy lives.

Speedy the sheepdog had stayed in the yard waiting for duty. Shadow had buzzed off home when I wasn’t moving on, but Nala, Philip’s double doodle, was still with me. Only two weeks now until her master is home. She was chasing in and out, up and down after whatever would zap her boundless energy but away from me down at the bottom of the lane. Then she returned, as she always does, with a flurry of leaves around her, disturbing my reverie of leaves.

FARMERS APPRECIATE NATURE

Autumn is particularly beautiful this year because of the dry spell that’s allowing us to enjoy it. Coincidentally, our local discussion group were also on the farm this week. I wasn’t around but the lads reported their discussion on farming matters. They also talked about how the farmers appreciated the colours and beauty of autumn.

One of our resident buzzards soared high in the air, assessing the available prey underneath. It prompted one farmer to describe how he discovered a buzzard with a broken wing. They housed him in a small shed while his children had to collect frogs and mice to keep him fed. After a while he was ready to fly again. What wonderful training for the next generation.

As farmers, we are at one and also a part of the natural life cycle of the countryside. Most farmers know and value this close relationship with the flora and fauna, both wild and farmed, on their land. We are custodians of the countryside and we take our duties seriously. We are serious about animal welfare and the piece of the jigsaw that keeps the flora and fauna of our countryside pulsing, living, changing and thriving.

We don’t think about it consciously, but when we do we are positively enveloped in nature’s tranquillity. In the right mindset, we can use it to enhance our mental health. It works for me when I allow it to do so. At other times, we know that nature can be cruel, robust and vicious with our crops and animals.

The last few leaves from the ivy have written their end-of-season signature across the lawn. Now it is time to appreciate the sturdy, intertwined, invasive bark and branch structure. The beauty never stops. CL