Farmer Writes: there's a time and place for everything

On the drive down to her childhood home in Fuerty, Co Roscommon, my mother always joked with my father that once they crossed the Shannon in Athlone, she could let her hair down. She could totally be herself and perhaps behave in a manner as she might have done as an uninhibited young lady, completely free from the shackles of convention.

This thought came to me as we were gathering up bales in the Moyrath bottoms. These attractive but wet grass fields are tucked away at the bottom of the farm, far from prying eyes. They’re set deep in the heart of the Meath countryside where high hedgerows abound and away from the sounds of the public road, perhaps a mile off in any direction.

People generalise and think Meath is all good land. It’s not. Many farms have a bottoms, an area of marginal, low-lying grassland, sometimes called “The Fans” around here.

Like my mother crossing the Shannon, I farm these secluded fields in a more uninhibited manner than I do elsewhere

A majestic row of old beech trees stands along the southern boundary, while a stream meanders along the western side but now reduced to a trickle. Old oak woodland overshadows the stream where Moyrath joins the home farm. Only a few ever see these fields but their intrinsic beauty would be lost on some.

Like my mother crossing the Shannon, I farm these secluded fields in a more uninhibited manner than I do elsewhere. The grasses are unproductive but species-rich old stock and grow practically free from fertiliser and totally free of herbicides. While walking the meadow before mowing, it was full of bees and butterflies. And horseflies – always horseflies – that would bleed you dry.

One of the beeches fell in a past storm and remains untidily uncut but its decaying timber provides a perfect habitat for small creatures – and a scratcher for cattle. Electric fences have eliminated scratchers. In the organic-matter-rich soils under the beeches, large patches of unmown nettles are allowed to flourish to shoulder height, home to butterfly caterpillars.

There’s a farm close to Trim where, some years ago, all the ditches were piped and the hedges removed with the result there must be 250 tillage acres in practically one rolling field

But bear with me. I haven’t totally lost the plot. There is, of course, a place for large open commercial fields with low hedges. These too give me a buzz and thankfully we have them too. There’s a farm close to Trim where, some years ago, all the ditches were piped and the hedges removed with the result there must be 250 tillage acres in practically one rolling field. This too is beautiful and a delight to farm and it has its place.

However, when you remove hedges and ditches, habitat destruction aside, you also remove character. A tillage farming friend of mine is all too aware of this.

Once I asked him why he didn’t fill in all his dry ditches, grub out the hedges and put the whole lot into one field. He simply responded “But I like my small fields”. What a wise answer and the mark of a true countryman.

I’ve since learned there is a time and a place for everything

I recall secretive fields in Moyrath with hedges thick and high enough to hide a fleet of combines. They were full of character with gentle dips and delightful dells. But such have no place with modern tillage machinery so with youthful exuberance, I removed them. And as the cheeky dog says on the AA car insurance advert, I’d do it again.

However, I’ve since learned there is a time and a place for everything. Yes, there were seven fields in the beautiful bottoms and these became two when I drained it in the 1980s. But no matter what, the remaining two fields will be preserved just as they are. Which is easy, as they’ve always been across the Shannon for me.