Today has been productive so far. The latest batch of cider was racked off its lees to a new fermentation pail. It tastes sour, but not aggressively so. The overall effect is mild and light; with some mellowing it will be a pleasant drink for the hot days.

Dozens of branches were taken off to the slash pile. There is more to be done, of course, but by now well over half of this is done. In due course the trunks will be cut up as well, but in the mean time the blackberries and grass which have grown up unmolested beneath the fallen branches are available to the sheep.

More hatchlings have made their way into the light, and when it all gets too bright, they shelter in Mother's shade for a nap.

The cooler weather comes in

We may have seen the last of the 80 Fahrenheit days this year. Clouds are rolling in, giving us drizzle and pushing temperatures well down.

We were concerned that the chargers for the electric fences might be dying. We turned one on and touched the copper wires at its contacts together. A spark promptly jumped, so the problem appears to lie in the electric mesh fences themselves.

The leaves are turning in earnest now, clearly giving the lie to thoughts that Autumn will only start at the equinox, which is still nearly a month away. By then, many of our trees will be practically bare.

Apples in waiting

While our planted trees are still too young to produce any crop, the existing trees (of which there are only half a dozen or so) are bearing well. We had hoped to harvest some fruit this weekend, but even though a few are on the ground, they are not quite ready yet.

The sheep have discovered apples, and like them. Jojo in particular is keen on apples, and takes some persuasion to move away.

It is still the warmish weather of August, but a chill is rapidly moving in. Last night the temperature went well below 50 degrees Fahrenheit, and the leaves on our trees are turning their colours. This is the end of the growing season, in these weeks.

To lose a lamb

It is perhaps a cosmic sense of irony which determined that in the space of time in which a farmer showered, a lamb strangled herself successfully on the mesh.

A different lamb, this time, also untagged. She's fairly big, so there will be plenty of meat from her. It's near culling season anyway, so in the big picture this is more a change of schedule than a tragedy.

To save a lamb

First thing this morning a farmer spotted a sheep tangled in the mesh, belly up. This is usually the end, in our experience.

However, on approaching the lamb, she kicked. Clearly there was life in her yet. A minute or two's quick work, and she was disentangled. The farmer then determined that she was one of those which hadn't been tagged yet, so she was lifted clear and taken to the porch where we have our tagging kit.

On returning her to the flock, newly tagged as number 16, she became more active, and bleated, and one ewe responded. While they nuzzled each other, the farmer worked out that the lamb's mother is Rose. It was a happy way to start the day.

Creatures of the night

Tonight while a farmer was putting the sheep to bed, there were good opportunities for admiring the local wildlife. An owl was seen flying overhead - quite possibly the one we had seen before. Similarly bats were spotted fluttering against the sunset, by the sickle moon. It was quite picturesque.

Shepherding skills increase greatly with experience. Tonight's challenge was to singlehandedly get five sheep into the paddock, which didn't really want to go in, while not letting fifty-three out, which weren't keen on staying in. Mission accomplished in perhaps five minutes.

The sheep are, as the hot weather dries some of the grass, going for the greener leaves preferentially. Given that the weather has had another hot burst, reaching 95 degrees fahrenheit today, this may be a blessing in disguise for the grass, by reducing the actively transpiring leaf area.

The march of the ducklings

New ducklings are hatching, but gradually rather than in one clutch. The rather interrupted and extended laying season is to blame.

Wimsey's memorial tree dropped its one pear of this season. Not terribly juicy, since the tree is still short on active roots, but the flavour was unquestionably excellent.

We have perhaps half a dozen volunteer apples around the farm which are accumulating a significant load of apples. We might well have over ten gallons of juice from them once all is said and done, although it's hard to tell before they drop. Despite no pruning and no thinning, they are quite fair sized apples. Most of the trees are significantly shaded by the lines of douglas firs, so they bear nowhere near their theoretical capacity.

Summer is back, however briefly, for this week or so, but the days are rapidly growing shorter. Every morning, nearly, starts with a fog so that things don't get quite as dry as one might otherwise imagine.

Horned owls

We have owls flying around again. We were herding the sheep, and one perched on the tip of a douglas fir, looking down on us.

Judging by the size of it, its tufted head, and the hoots which ring over the farm tonight, there's at least one Great Horned Owl visiting us. We hope that it will eat more vermin than ducklings. Since the ducklings are sheltering mostly beneath the porch, we expect they will be safe.

Apples and migrations

The volunteer apple trees already present on the farm promise to bear a substantial crop this year, despite no real pruning. We expect many gallons of juice from this, likely a couple of dozen or more, but not hundreds.

The apples aren't ripe yet, but are ripening. Perhaps by the end of the month there will be more batches in fermentation.

The geese are getting the migratory urge. At first there was concern that we might have to clip their wings, but it emerges that feeding them well works even better. They form up into a line, trying to form a vee, and run across the field honking and flapping, but fail to go aloft, so the whole endeavour is rather pointless. The rest of the time they cheerfully wander around grazing, and bullying their way to the bird feed, so do not feel too sorry for them.

Relief at last

As if heralding the end of Summer, the rain has started. It is a gentle, soaking sort of rain which is turning even bare patches of clay darker, although not heavy enough to soften them much yet.

The animals are largely ignoring the rain, but the cooler air is welcomed by them all. The geese aren't sitting in the shade with open beaks, and the sheep aren't panting. The pasture, which was starting to dry, should be greatly relieved.

The question has been asked if we don't find the climate here dreary and dull. Perhaps in other areas that might apply, but here the rain is welcome.

For those who doubt that Autumn is here, the first leaves are changing and starting to fall. The days are rapidly growing shorter now, and it will not be long until only the evergreens hide their branches.

A political development

When the farm was purchased, the county had put a moratorium on development in the area until various matters could be resolved with the state - in short, the state wanted land set aside for agricultural and other strictly rural purposes, as being prime agricultural land.

It seems that this moratorium has been lifted, and that agricultural land has been identified. The farm isn't in that protected designation, but since the farm isn't particularly near a town (a few miles away, in fact) there's no particular reason to believe that the zoning will change any time soon.

Still, one has to watch these things. Most of the agricultural resource land has apparently been chosen in the floodplains of rivers. Presumably it is specifically arable land they wanted to save.

Partial Fencing

Our neighbours to the West have put up more field fence along a section of their property which blocks much of the way our sheep have trespassed onto their land. There is a gap remaining, and we have blocked that with some of our temporary mesh fencing. The sheep charge to the corner of our property, hoping for a way to molest the neighbours, and then are brought up short by the way being blocked. They have tried this a couple of times - eventually they will learn that the limitations are there to stay.

We are sadly down to eleven ducklings. This is what predation does, alas. There are more clutches waiting to be hatched, so it is by no means the end of the season. With thirteen adult ducks left, and eleven ducklings, we still have a good selection.

The gander who decided that a farmer was his best friend has paired well with the gosling (now a fully fledged goose in her own right) which we bought for him, but he still acknowledges and approaches the farmer in a friendly way. This is a good thing because it keeps the whole flock more peaceful.