Firstly, I was visiting with a neighbour when she happened to recall being out in the field with her siblings collecting cow dung pats for the fire. I knew of this practice in India and Africa and elsewhere but had never before heard that it was common practice in Wexford during and before the Second World War. She explained how they propped them up like stooks of corn to dry before bringing them in. She spoke enthusiastically about how hot they burned on their kitchen fire. Full of energy they were.

A short while afterwards, the lovely autumn weather and late grazing gave me time to be looking at dung pats as I herded the cattle. On the first day of November, I counted four different species of dung fly buzzing around the fresh pats. There was a strong buzz of life around every dung pat. Looking at the previous weeks dung pats, I saw they were heaving with larvae. Older ones were covered in an orange fungus. In short, they were all heaving with life in its many forms. I wondered if we have overlooked the value of all this energy and life.

Most of our farming manuals and advisory leaflets have valued dung and slurry in terms of the number of units of N, P and K contained, versus the price of those units in a bought-in chemical fertiliser. But, this strictly chemical calculation ignores the value of all the energy and liveliness that dung brings to our soil. The more life we can get into our soils, the more productive they will be, the more resilient they will be, and the more carbon they will sequester. Dung, particularly that of ruminants, is worth its weight in gold. As a soil improver there is nothing to beat freshly dropped cow pats or sheep currants.

As scientists and policy makers continue to advocate reductions in the numbers of ruminants, we should be calling loudly for them to hold their noses and have a closer look at the real value that ruminant dung has brought to the earth and can continue to bring.