Autumnal beauty had been sprinkled across the farm, soothing both our mood and that of the animals.

The jeep rolled to a stop where I was working in the garden. Tim was going to give more grass to 36 dry cows that were dried off recently. I opted to go along as there was a good walk involved once we reached the Inch field by the river. It was soft after the rain and if Tim drove in there, we’d have a long walk home.

Tim’s kelpie, Bran, and my Pyrenean Mountain dog, Lola, were along for the run. It had been a while since I was down through the fields. We passed by the calf shed with its pile of multi-teat feeders that were put outside for the clean out earlier in the summer – a stark reminder of a job I needed to do soon. Time is ticking towards spring.

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Heading down the well field, we examined the crop of luscious kale on the left. It’s about 4ft tall, way too tall to run a fence through it. The cows went into it two weeks ago. Tim described how he had to drive down the side of the crop with the tractor in order to be able to run a fence in the wheel track and start feeding the crop.

The cows eat it under the fence that is moved every day. They eat kale by day and grass by night. Grass is continuing to grow and will be available longer because of the kale crop. The cows’ diet consists of 7kg kale, 10kg grass and 2kg of meal.

As we push on down into the valley, the view is breathtaking. I spot something white high up in an ash tree. Feeling our presence, a snowy, majestic little egret lifts off and I’m thrilled they’re back. Tim tells me he’s been seeing them around the place.

The mild weather is good for the little egrets. The trees are splendid, bathed in a watery sunlight that gives false life to leaves that are actually dying. The yellow becomes gold, turning orange, then raw to burnt umber as the moisture in the leaves lessens.

As we push on down into the valley, the view is breathtaking. I spot something white high up in an ash tree. Feeling our presence, a snowy, majestic little egret lifts off and I’m thrilled they’re back

The veins become pronounced and when they fall, copper becomes crimson and finally brown. The process is nature battening down the hatches for winter.

Tim hands me the portable fencer and some poles while he rolls up the wire to move all on to the last part of the field to be grazed.

“The next event here when this is finished will be silage in the spring,” he says. He puts up the fence and we spot some holly trees covered in bright red berries.

A trip down through the fields makes me feel part of the energy of the farm. As we turn for home, Lola comes dripping out of the river and Bran gets ready to race the jeep again.

The idyllic state could not last – storm Claudia would make sure of that.

Storm Claudia

Since that day only a week ago, the golden hues of the autumn tapestry have been twisted, battered and mulched into a brown mess with the incessant rain of storm Claudia. Tim made a quick decision to bring the 36 dry cows home to the comfort of the shed.

The fields that were green and lush with stock grazing on them have turned into a brown muddy terrain.

Animals hate the driving rain too and show their disquiet by walking and walking. We have an abundance of grass here in Cork. It will be hard to graze enough of it and keep the quality good for the spring.

The grass management challenges never let up as the sheds begin to fill up with animals for the winter period.