Dales sheep

click photo to enlarge
The last major outbreak of foot and mouth disease to hit the sheep population of the Yorkshire Dales occurred in 2001. It led to the cull of the vast majority of the sheep in this upland area, most of which were of the Swaledale breed. Farmers had to bring in other breeds from unaffected parts of the country, sometimes varieties that were not as well suited to the rugged terrain as the Swaledales.

I grew up in Settle in the Dales and have visited the area regularly since work took me to live elsewhere in the country. On my returns after the disease was eradicated I found that I was unable to identify most of the breeds of sheep that took the place of the Swaledales, and I wondered if the native breed would ever return in the numbers that I remembered. I'm glad to say that it seems the flocks are being re-established, that many farmers are breeding them and re-introducing them into the limestone dales and high moorland. Some of the varieties that I don't recognise are still very evident, but I have a clear impression that as a proportion of the total Dales flocks they are declining.

Today's photographs show Swaledales on the hills around Attermire and a breed I don't know on a gated valley pasture very close to Upper Settle. The latter photograph was taken early in a walk that also included the second, and the height of the sun makes all the difference between the two shots.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 31mm (62mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Yorkshire Dales sheep shearing

click photo to enlarge
Walking on the hills above Settle, North Yorkshire, the other week I heard the sound of many sheep from behind a drystone wall. Easing myself up so I could look over the top I saw a large flock of sheep enclosed in the corner of the field. Some were comfortably rotund, sporting fine fleeces and others were scrawny looking, having just had the ovine equivalent of a "short back and sides". Yes, it was sheep shearing time in the Dales.

Today's photograph shows the sheep milling about, the animals yet to be de-fleeced looking quite different from their shorn compatriots. There was a time, prior to the last foot and mouth disease outbreak, when such a scene would have consisted solely of the Swaledale breed. There are some of these present - quite a lot in fact -  with their black faces and white muzzles. However, anyone walking over the Craven uplands today can't help but notice other breeds that have crept in since the last mass cull, and some of these "off cumd uns", to use the Yorkshire expression for interlopers, are also evident.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 34mm (51mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Values, land and the future

click photo to enlarge
What price can be put on a piece of farmland? All land has a market value which equates with as much as someone is prepared to pay. But market value is only one measure of value: agricultural land has values that exceed that narrow measure.

Today's photograph shows a field of pasture on the Lincolnshire Fens. When I took my photograph it was looking a bit the worse for wear after a wet winter and a cold spring. But the sheep and their lambs were finding sustenance in the grass. Farther out in the field lapwings were feeding and occasionally flinging themselves through the air in their courtship flight. A buzzard was surveying the scene from one of the hedgerow trees, and through the bushes were flitting a family group of long-tailed tits. Barn owls frequently fly along the drainage ditches that border the field hoping to surprise an unsuspecting mouse or shrew, and the distinctive song of the yellowhammer can often be heard competing with that of its near relative, the reed bunting. Pasture fields are not common in the Fens where vegetable production prevails, so the value to wildlife of this piece of land is locally immense.

As it happens this land (and three nearby sites) have been shortlisted for a 49 acre substation that is to service the giant Triton Knoll wind farm that is being planned for the North Sea off the east coast. If you thought offshore turbines preferable because they didn't spoil the countryside then think again. The company that needs the substation concludes that this site and the three others it has short-listed can be built with the least environmental and socio-economic cost. The land here is categorised as Grade 2. The other sites are either Grade 1 or Grade 2. In 2011the Government published the Natural Environment White Paper "The Natural Choice: securing the value of nature" which, amongst many other things, sought to halt the decline in natural habitats, promote natural diversity and "protect our best and most versatile agricultural land" (a phrase used to describe land classified as Grade 1, Grade 2 or Grade 3a. Clearly concreting over fields such as this is completely contrary to those stated aims.

Our world of markets, money, profit and growth needs to factor into its calculations the idea of "natural capital": the land that as well as providing food, a commodity that is going to be ever more costly and in shorter supply in the future, also provides habitats for the wildlife without which our world is a dull, impoverished and arid place. The value of natural capital is enormous, eclipsing many of the more routine costs and values that are involved in everyday calculations. A proper valuation of the area of land in this photograph would result in a rethink about its suitability as a place build on.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.3mm (52mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On  

Who eats the cabbages?

click photo to enlarge

In the Monty Python sketch set in a "greasy spoon cafe" every item on offer includes Spam. When reciting the menu the waitress notes the presence of the once ubiquitous industrial meat with a barely disguised relish. However, if you think that establishment's offerings are the depths of culinary monotony, spare a thought for the sheep in this Lincolnshire field: breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper consists of cabbage. And then, by way of a change, the next day they have...cabbage. Still, it's probably better than grass.

I pass this field fairly frequently in my car, and I've watched these sheep eat their way across it in sections that are divided off with a moveable electric fence. The field is quite a large one, and the part that was eaten first (in the background) has already been ploughed. I've discussed elsewhere the Lincolnshire custom of sheep being wintered on fields of vegetables that are either the cropped leafy remains, or those that are unsold. Being brought up in the sheep country of the Yorkshire Dales, I initially found it odd to see the animals on anything other than grass, but I've got used to it by now. However, there is one thing that puzzles me, and seeing these sheep eating what appear to be perfectly good cabbages, set me thinking about it again. The puzzle is this: who eats all the cabbages that I see growing in Lincolnshire? I know that people of my generation eat cabbage (in all its varieties) as a cooked vegetable. I even grow some. But what about younger people? Just about the only cabbage I see them eating comes in the form of cole slaw. A couple of years ago, when speaking to a farmer, I learned that the big, round, football-like cabbages in the field next to us were for that product. I do still see cabbage offered on some restaurant menus, but it has definitely moved from being a staple of the English diet to something of an unwanted relic.  However, the acres of Savoys, pointed varieties and others that I see must be being eaten by someone. But who, and when, and where? It's a puzzle.

When it comes to photography sheep are exceedingly unco-operative creatures. I knew that when I got out of my car with the camera at the ready those nearby would flee, presenting me with a shot of rear ends. So it proved, but then curiosity got the better of them and they stopped and turned to look at me. I wondered what they thought as I snapped away, and I wondered too what the drivers of the passing vehicles thought when they saw me snapping this unpromising subject!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 168mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 500
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sheep on the Fens

click photo to enlarge

I grew up in sheep country. The hillsides and "tops" of the Craven district of the Yorkshire Dales used to be crawling with them, whilst on the improved grass of the lower slopes and the river valleys it was the beef and milk cattle that took precedence. That area of the Dales still rears a lot of sheep, but the omnipresent Swaledale seems to have given way to a wider range of breeds since the foot and mouth outbreak of 2001. The diet of Dales sheep is grass in its many varieties. When that is unavailable mangolds are sometimes given. During this year's very dry spring I saw farmers delivering concentrate by quad bike to the sheep and lambs on the limestone uplands.

One of the surprises I got following my re-location from the north west of England to Lincolnshire was the sight of sheep on the Fens. I'd visited this area before, but only during spring and summer, and hadn't seen sheep in the fields, or very much pasture on which they could live: a few "hobby" sheep kept in paddocks near farms was about all. So I wasn't ready for the arrival of significant numbers once autumn got under way. What happens on the Fens as far as sheep go is very beneficial for their owners and for the vegetable growers on whose fields they are deposited. Around October flocks are brought in and put onto fields where a crop hasn't sold and has gone to seed, or where the crop has been lifted and there is still plenty of green leaf remaining - as with cauliflowers, for example. If the field already has a sheep-proof boundary the animals are simply turned onto the crop and they eat their way across it following an electric fence that is moved once they have stripped an area. On fields without hedges or other boundaries an electric fence is all that is used to contain them. Often the owner leaves a few hay bales to supplement the green diet, and I have seen "licks" in some fields. A payment in cash or kind can accompany this activity, and the fields must benefit from the manure that is deposited. The owners of the sheep have the the benefit of fresh greens for their animals at a time of year when the vigour of the grass on their upland pastures is in decline. Sheep can be seen on the Fens through the winter, and gradually start to disappear come spring.

The animals in today's photograph had only recently been introduced to this field of unwanted vegetables, and the height of the crop was hiding many of them. I stopped the car on the adjacent lane as I drove past when I noticed the low sun outlining the bodies of a group of nearby animals. Perhaps I should consider this image another one resulting from my self-imposed task of taking more contre jour shots.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 200mm (400mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 400
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Sheep, Penyghent and rain

click photo to enlarge

 Anyone who knows the Three Peaks of the Yorkshire Dales (Ingleborough, Penyghent and Whernside) usually has a favourite. And most people, when asked, name Ingleborough as the one they like best. It features in countless photographs and there's a lot to like about that particular mountain. It has a great flat-topped profile against the sky, the result of the differential erosion of the rocks in the Yoredale strata. Its location next to the Chapel Beck valley gives it a looming mass that is quite awe inspiring. And the limestone on and around Ingleborough is very prominent, adding to its rugged appeal. Then there's the Iron Age hill fort on its summit and the very accessible caves and potholes on its flanks. Whernside is usually placed third in this beauty contest. It is a lump of a peak, a whaleback that is difficult to pick out from some angles, and it doesn't have the characteristic profile that the other two share. Its proximity to Ribblehead railway viaduct is a plus, but its comparative anonymity is reflected in the much smaller number of photographs that it attracts.

However, my favourite is Penyghent. Why? Well, I could see it easily daily from Settle when I was growing up in that market town: I had to go on to the hills to view Ingleborough and Whernside. I noticed its changing moods and colours through each season. I walked to it and up it on a few occasions, and in later years climbed it with my family more than I did the other two. Then there's the clinching argument that means I could choose no other - in primary school I was in the "house" named Penyghent Blues! We competed against Ingleborough Yellows, Whernside Greens, and Pendle Reds (named after the Three Peaks and a Lancashire peak, all visible from in or around Settle).

It was only in later years that I learned that Penyghent is Celtic for "hill of winds", and that it is a monadnock (also known as inselberg) that stood above the glaciers that flowed round it in the recent Ice Age. In fact I know more about that mountain than I do about the sheep in the foreground of this photograph. They are a breed that is a more common sight in the Yorkshire Dales following the foot and mouth sheep culls of 2001. It must be one of the types listed on this informative website. But which one? I really can't decide.

I took my photograph from above Little Stainforth about half way through a walk that took in Giggleswick Scars and the valley of the River Ribble. Descending from the limestone near Smearsett Scar we were glad to see the rain enveloping the mountain rather than us!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (80mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Swaledales and fashion

click photo to enlarge

Striding out on the limestone grasslands of the Craven uplands of North Yorkshire I was starting to feel sorry for the sheep. For the Swaledales in particular, the breed that is the mainstay of the local farms. A very dry spell of weather meant that the grass wasn't growing as lushly as it should have been in late May, and the animals were having to be fed supplements brought to them by shepherds on quad bikes. The temperature was unseasonally cold too, with a northerly wind causing me to don a jacket. The lambs looked to be faring quite well, their mothers' milk and what food there was stimulating the thick, curly fleece that offers very effective insulation against the bad weather. No, it wasn't the youngsters that I was concerned about, it was the ewes. Quite a number of them had fleeces that were dropping off their backs, hanging down in rags, the missing pieces blowing about among the nardus grass or caught on the drystone walls and barbed wire. Sheep shearing in the Dales usually starts at the end of May. Had it been postponed due to the weather, I wondered, or was there some other reason for the dishevelled look of the local inhabitants?

Then it struck me. Perhaps this wasn't a case of shearing delayed, but was a matter of sartorial choice on the part of the Swaledales. Could it be that a quirk of the evolutionary process was causing them to follow the precedents of some of the higher life forms who pass their way; in particular the fashionably dressed youngsters on outdoor pursuits courses, or those dragged on to the hills by enthusiastic parents (my children know that of which I speak). The sheep must have seen the ripped jeans, stonewashed shirts, artificially distressed jumpers and artfully revealed midriffs, and thought, "At last, the humans have a fashion that we can copy!" Either that or they're taking the rip and having a good laugh at our expense. What do you think?

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 83mm (166mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

English parkland

click photos to enlarge
Both of today's photographs were taken in the area immediately around the village of Aswarby in Lincolnshire. They are views of the parkland that was created in the eighteenth and nineteenth century around Aswarby Hall, the home of the Tudor Carres and later the Whichcotes.

"Parkland" in this sense is a very English term, meaning not the play and recreation area laid out by municipalities for the enjoyment of an urban population, but rather the landscaped pastures and woodlands in the immediate vicinity of a large country house. It became the fashion, during the period when the English landscape garden was at its peak of popularity to plant formally near to such a house, to have "natural" looking lawns and gardens with lakes, statues, "eyecatchers" and scenic planting beyond this, and for the farmland past the garden boundary to be "enhanced" with solitary trees in pastures, "rides" through wooods and planted avenues, and screens of trees to confound prying eyes: the very vision of pastoral beauty and tranquility. Often, to give the impression of beautiful nature continuing in an unbroken sweep from the gardens through into the parkland there would be a hidden ha-ha (a wall and ditch) to prevent cattle and sheep encroaching on the tended grounds near the house.

Parkland of this sort is still being created today, but more often that which we see dates from this earlier period. It has a quite distinctive appearance, and is often signalled by large, specimen trees in the middle of pastures, or big, non-native, often evergreen, trees in small groups. Near where I took these photographs a former pasture that exhibits both these characteristic tree plantings has been turned into a cereal field. We passed it on our walk, bare soil with enormous trees dotted here and there - an odd sight. Nearby were the expected woods with pheasant rearing pens and feeders, and an adjoining area of maize left for both cover and feed for the "sportsmen's" targets.

photographs & text (c) T.Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photo 2
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (80mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wayward sheep and recurring subjects

click photo to enlarge
If you keep sheep you have to work hard to make sure you keep them. The saying "just like sheep" refers to their habit of following, one behind the other, in a strung out line, as they move from one place to another. This behaviour can be turned against sheep by their owners. A farmer, wishing to move the animals from one field to another, merely has to get one of the lead sheep through the gate, and the others will fall over themselves in the rush follow. But it's an animal behaviour can also work against their owner too. An individual sheep, making the chance discovery of a way through a hedge, over a drystone wall, or through an inadvertently left-open gate, can precipitate a mass exodus as the rest of the flock follow the pathfinder's example.

Yesterday I came upon this fence extending a field boundary into the depths of Rutland Water reservoir. Like all such expanses of water, this one rises and falls with the rainfall and the demands of the population it serves. When the water is low the sheep can trot out on to the mud and move round the end of the field boundaries that run down to the reservoir's edge. Consequently fence extensions of this sort are necessary to keep them in the required place. The graphic shape that such a structure makes against the water has caught my eye before on the edge of Derwent Water in the Lake District. So why try for such an image again you might ask? Well, I think photographing the same subject in different locations and different ways, over time, is helpful in developing one's photography. If a subject is good, it's a satisfying challenge to work on different interpretations. I was going to present this shot in colour as I did with the previous fence (look carefully, it is!), but black and white made more of the silhouette, shadows and reflection so that's how it ended up.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Not so typical after all

click photo to enlarge
A typical English rural scene on an overcast March day in Leicestershire - in the foreground sheep and lambs feed on lush, green grass; in the background, a small village (King's Norton) with a huddle of Georgian and later brick houses, in the centre of which stands a Gothic church; whilst in the middleground, on the hillside pasture surrounded by trees and hedges is a herd of alpacas. Alpacas? In England? Well, yes, an increasingly common sight. Not usually this many: more often it's two or three. But gone are days when I was surprised to round a bend and be confronted by these Andean camelids - they are taking up residence in many corners of our fair land.

Seeing a herd of this size prompted me to find out just why the numbers are increasing in England. It seems that many are "hobby" animals in much the same way that horses, goats and exotic pigs are: that is to say, they are kept for their "cute" appeal. Larger herds - perhaps this one - are kept for the wool that they produce which is sought after as a clothing material. Ah well, each to their own I suppose!

But, the alpacas aren't the only un-English feature of this photograph. The church, which looks like a medieval or Victorian Gothic building was actually completed in 1761, an astonishingly early date for an example of Gothic Revival: most churches of that period had classical forms and details. It was designed by the younger John Wing with an eye for historical accuracy that is almost unprecedented at that time. If anything gives away the fact that it's not medieval Gothic, in this view, it is the relatively tall nave, the absence of a break to signify the chancel, and the outline of the tower.

So, not typical at all. In fact a rather unusual rural scene to encounter on a dull March day, but an interesting one I think.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 102mm (204mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/320 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On