At last the sheep are back. I never thought I would miss these noisy, smelly creatures but their absence from the valley this early spring made me pine for them. The dogs were excited to see them back and even Carla remembered that they are our friends and not to be chased across the fields.
The gorse flowers seem a brighter yellow than ever and a few warm days of blazing sunshine has finally kicked the valley into life. The new pasture has had to be re-sown. Another £1000 worth of grass seed for just over 100 acres and crossed fingers that the rain will come in time.
It did, right on cue the following day but then we went into a dry spell and it must have been touch and go whether it would fail again. More than a fortnight later and a light but persistent drizzle set in. The green shoots appeared and it now looks as if all will be well. There are strange patches in the valley that can change from waterlogged to dustbowl in the space of a few days. In past years, crops of wheat or barley have had to be re-sown. At least with the new pasture, once it’s established that’s it. Two years from now and organic Aberdeen Angus will be grazing it.
We have had two extraordinary confrontations with foxes recently. Or rather, I have. Fortunately, on both occasions the dogs didn’t get involved. I can only imagine that they and a fox or two wouldn’t get on that well. It could be a messy encounter.
It’s easy to forget how much more I see with my eyes nearly six feet above the ground, whereas the dogs perspective is from much lower down. So when, passing through a gate right on top of the hill, a sleek, glossy coated reynard darted across my path, just twenty or thirty feet away, the dogs didn’t see a thing. I remember that a horse and rider was approaching and as I shut the gate, even closer, presumably its mate, shot through, almost between the horse’s legs. The amazing thing about these animals is what good condition they’re in. They look as if they’re dining on the very finest complete dog food, perhaps with some vitamin and mineral supplements for their coats. They look every bit as cared for, loved and spoiled as my own two hounds.
The second occasion was a way out of the valley, north over the hill and down past Half Moon Copse overlooking the Dorset plain. In fact, we were walking back south, on the way home and we avoided a field full of cattle with some newly born calves. There, through the hedge, only twenty feet away he stood, competely unaware of me with the breeze in my face, preventing him scenting me. He was watching the calves, weighing up his chances, salivating in anticipation. Then Carla smelt him. He turned, astonished at his audience and disappeared.
The walk down the hill is spent looking upwards, trying to pick out the dozens of tiny skylarks that sing and shout and holler to say that spring is here. Back home and the emails are rolling in again. It’s only these couple of hours with the dogs every day that keep me sane.
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Paradise Valley
