Welcome to my weekly post, wherein I tell you how my sheep are doing, what music I’ve been listening to and what photos I’ve been taking. I call it Sheep | Song | Photograph and some weeks that title is more accurate than others. It feels like only a few weeks have passed since I started this but when I look at the title I realise that we’re halfway through the year. It’s all downhill from here.
Our walk with the Farndale and Friends Walking Group on Saturday was just beautiful, as we climbed out of the sultry heat in the valley bottom to picnic in a cooling breeze on a ridge that offered a truly panoramic view of the whole dale.
But then the week began badly, my next door neighbour, Chris, stopped me on the road to say he had spotted two of our ewes showing classic signs of fly-strike. This occurs during damp, muggy weather when blowfly eggs hatch in the sheeps’ wool and the maggots start to feed on the poor animals flesh. Untreated, this results in a slow, extremely painful, not to say, horrific death. We treat the sheep with a chemical that protects them but it only lasts for 8 weeks and, due to the unseasonal warmth in April, that time was now up. As soon as we were able to on Monday afternoon, we rounded up the entire flock and began checking them. We found several had fly-strike, fortunately none seriously, and used hand shears to remove the infected wool and used a small amount of chemical to kill the remaining maggots. We can’t do more than that as it’s not pleasant stuff for the guys that shear the sheep. The following day I had to pick up my amazing mother in law from Manchester Airport, a round trip of 5 hours, made longer by a bad accident on the M62. When I finally got home, Pip had my tea ready for me but once I’d finished she told me she had identified at least two more ewes showing signs of fly-strike. It was 10:20pm by the time we finished checking them all and we found several more.
We had arranged for the shearers to come today (Thursday) but the forecast was a bit dodgy. They can’t clip the sheep when they’re wet. So, after celebrating Pip’s birthday yesterday evening, we got up at 6am and got the sheep into the shed about 20 minutes before the heavens opened. We were so pleased, the sheep are all now sheared, we have also wormed them and reapplied the protective chemical so they should be safe now for the summer. It was a tough day but satisfying too. And we can now make arrangements to have a week’s holiday, our first one together since 2017.
26 June 2015
As I think I’ve said before, what I mainly photograph on the farm is weather and light. This image being a classic example, looking down the dale from one of our top fields, the view itself is nothing special but what makes the picture is the receding storm clouds overhead. I don’t remember this specifically but I suspect I had waited for a summer downpour to pass before setting out to walk the dog.
26 June 2020
Here’s another from five years later looking in the same direction but from the cow pasture and featuring sheep as well as weather.
26 June 2021
And again, similar view, same place but different weather, a balmy summers evening.
One of the many things that has surprised me going through all of these images to post on Substack is the incredible number of cat photos I have. The feral cat colony that live in our barn are quite skittish so if I see a potential picture I must act quickly or it’s gone. I fail more times than I succeed and, as I’m usually busy doing something else, the large majority of these images have been forgotten until now.
26 June 2024
A couple of pictures from another of Pip’s early rides on young Spartan where I walked alongside to give him confidence. This one was right to the northern end of the dale and then down the green lane to the river. This was the furthest he’d ever been and I was about buggered by the time we got back home. After this one, Pip was happy he was ready to go solo. Much to my relief.
27 June 2020
Another late June afternoon, another stormy sky. If I remember rightly, the first lockdown had gradually been lifted through May and by June, meeting with friends and family outside in small groups was permitted. Pip was in the middle of a course of chemotherapy so we continued to isolate ourselves as much as possible. We also continued taking pictures to send to my sister, whose own cancer treatment placed even greater restrictions on her.
27 June 2021
A year later and despite the obviously abstract nature of the image, a day I remember well. Pip had largely recovered from her operation and the subsequent chemo and radiotherapy. She had a further operation still to come but was coming back strong with a determination to do more with her second chance at life. So, we met up with our friends David and Saskia who had been so supportive via Zoom and occasionally in ‘socially distant’ person, and went for a walk. This felt like the most normal thing we had done in 16 months and we loved it. The picture is of a large seed head, like a dandelion only much larger and I was amazed at the intricate pattern it formed, reminding me of Spirograph, for those old enough to remember the childrens’ game
27 June 2024
What is it with this date and cancer stories? Last year I went on another hunt for bog cotton with my friend, John, who’s cancer had returned after many years in remission, and as a result, wanted to get out and about as much as possible while he was still able. We headed towards the ridge between Danby and Fryup and were more successful this time around. I had decided not to take my camera bag but, instead, to put my new iPhone through its paces. This was quite liberating, watching John struggle to get his tripod in the ideal position and then set the camera up accordingly, whilst I danced around, snapping away, responding to the changes in light, with no expectation of making a masterpiece.
Later that evening, with Farndale under a blanket of cloud I spotted a gap at the horizon where I thought the setting sun might appear. Excited to try out the phone some more, I headed up to the disused railway line that runs around the east side of the dale to see what happened. Once again, I had no serious expectations but instead, could enjoy what turned out to be one hell of a light show.
28 June 2011
One of my favourite views in the whole world is this one, looking south from Potter’s Nab with Farndale laid out before me. This is the place I mentioned last week that I brought Joe Cornish to and it’s one I have visited dozens of times over the years. The light isn’t always as good as this but, when it is, I feel my heart surge with the pure joy of witnessing it. I like to think I was the first person to photograph this view but I’m not sure that is true. There is a memorial here to a chap called Wally Bolton, who lived in the dale and whose ashes were scattered on the nab. Apparently, he would sit here and enjoy the view. I never met him, sadly he had died before we moved to Farndale, but I think I might have liked him and I always say hello whenever I’m up there.
28 June 2020
Another moody sky, this one taken from the top fields on an evening dog walk.
28 June 2021
The final picture of ‘My Lockdown Project’, that I posted over the course of a year or so on Instagram. It seemed appropriate to finish a photography project with a sunset image and it was about this time that we felt that we no longer needed to keep away from friends and family in order to keep Pip safe.
29 June 2011
A different view into Farndale, this time from Hillhouse Nab but again looking south(ish). The three fields in the mid-ground are our top fields and this is another view I have sat and enjoyed on many occasions.
29 June 2018
Pip’s main riding pony, Archie, in one of the top fields as featured above. He’s a Dales Pony and this is the terrain he was bred for.
30 June 2017
Final preparations being put in place for our silver wedding anniversary trip which included Pip’s friend, Mel, house sitting for us and having her two Norwegian Fjord ponies in the field with the flock. They arrived a couple of days before she did and this is Pip walking to them with head collars, presumably to catch them for reasons I can’t recall. Also in the picture is Wobble the lamb who had finally moved out of the house and garden and was learning to live like a sheep.
30 June 2022
Over the years, the iPhone has become better and better at capturing images of butterflies. Either that or I have. Apparently, they are easier to photograph on colder days as they are more reluctant to fly when it’s cool. This, I think, is a Speckled Wood.
30 June 2024
Not a photograph but a video of Pip leading the pet lambs down to their trough where we continued to feed them until we were happy that they were getting enough nutrition from the grass alone. They were, and still are, very happy sheep.
1 July 2019
At this time of year after a ride, Pip usually hoses Archie down to help him cool off. He seems to enjoy the cooling aspect of it but not the being clean. On most occasions, he will find a patch of mud and have a roll around. But on this day, I seem to have caught him unawares looking all shiny as the sun goes down.
1 July 2022
After a few days to recover from their epic moorland ride, Pip, Sam, Archie and Gally May headed for the beach, specifically Coatham Sands. This is the beginning of 7 miles of uninterrupted sandy beach, absolutely perfect for long canters although, in fine weather, you do have to jump the odd sun worshipper as you go. There was no danger of that when we were there as it was raining most of the time with dark, foreboding skies. The backdrop of what heavy industry remains on Teesside just added to the atmosphere and I got what are probably my favourite horse pictures ever.
2 July 2017
Our preparations for imminent departure on our first holiday together since 2002 were briefly interrupted by the arrival of our next door neighbours with their new puppy, Ziggy.
2 July 2022
With my new found need to get out to local places I had never been to and Pip’s need to find out which bridleways were rideable, we ventured just out of Farndale, visiting Lowna, Gillamoor and Boon Hill. We walked past a field of alpacas, through a field of vegetables destined for our local farm shop and down some lovely woodland tracks. And some of these are now regular parts of Pip’s rides.
2 July 2023
The last few pictures for this week are from the 2023 running of the Cancer Research UK Pretty Muddy 5km. This is a fun run with obstacles that generally involve mud and water, with the participants being sponsored by friends and family to raise money for this worthy charity. Having benefited directly from CR UK, Pip is more than happy to organise a team from Farndale every year and I tag along to take photos.
Musical Interlude
A couple years weeks ago I featured Jeffrey Martin in this slot, now it’s the turn of his partner in life, Anna Tivel. She is a most wonderful songwriter, taking little snapshots of the downtrodden and the quiet folk and turning them into wonderfully cinematic songs. She makes the kind of music that you can listen to many times before it really penetrates your conscious mind and then you realise what an astonishing songwriter she is. The song below was released about two years ago and is one of my favourites. I hope you enjoy.
Thanks for all the lovely comments last week, let’s keep it going in the second half of the year, Substack is nothing special if we’re not having conversations. I will do my best to post on time next week but Pip and I (and members of our family) are on holiday so I can’t promise. It’s been a rush to finish this one with the sheep having kept us so busy this week. Next week will be the eighth anniversary of our last time away together, in the incredible African nation of Namibia and I’m excited to share those pictures with you. So, until then,
Much love,
Dave
A wonderfully varied collection of images, Dave. I too like the horses and the beach - and turbines in the background … (you know I love a good curious object in the sea!).
Love that track by Anna Tivel too…
Hey Dave
I love the photos of the horses at the beach - quite surreal!
Cheers
Dave :)