There’s something magical about the long evenings in June - the warmth, the way the setting sun casts long shadows across the fields, and the fact that there’s still plenty of work to do before harvest. Because nothing says “magical” like pulling out wild oats and blackgrass from seed crop tramlines. Strict rules govern how many of these unwanted plants are allowed per hectare, and independent inspectors check the results. Government officials from the Animal and Plant Health Agency even walk the higher quality seed crops, presumably with clipboards and stern looks.
On wetter days, the farm’s staff head undercover to clean grain stores and set “bait traps” for insect pests like grain weevils and mites. If pests show up, they go back in with brushes and vacuums - a thrilling reminder that farming is mostly just very persistent housekeeping.
The recent dry spell has brought on wildflower margins - cornflowers, poppies, corn cockles, moon daisies, phacelias and others - which are a magnet for bees and butterflies, but also a habitat for aphid pest controllers. These unsung heroes include ladybirds, parasitic wasps and hoverflies, working their way several hundred metres into crops like wheat and oilseed rape, vastly reducing the need for chemical control. It turns out nature already invented integrated pest management; it just calls it “ladybirds eating things.”
Soon they’ll be making hay. Demand is strong after last year’s drought-hit yields, but they don’t compromise by making haylage or silage in April or May, because the farmer says he cannot abide plastic wrapping in the countryside, and cutting early harms ground-nesting birds. The problem with hay is the changing, unpredictable climate. Patience can be tested when a “seven-day heatwave” becomes five days, or three, or dry weather is followed by torrential downpours.
It isn’t just the evenings that are glorious here - the dawn chorus is often deafening and begins well before 5am. The farmer knows from the Merlin app and a monthly RSPB walk they host that birdlife is thriving. On the RSPB’s first visit, they notched up 36 species, including six separate warblers. That’s a lot of birds singing before coffee.