Young squirrels eat the wheat

A difficult winter faces those of us who keep livestock, for the lack of rain means that grass has not grown as well as it should have, and some of us are already having to feed hay.

The first cut this year was very good indeed, but no rain means no second cut, no grazing, and hay that has to last all winter must be fed early. We will manage: we always do, but it will be difficult. You have to respect weeds: where there is still green on the ground, it is in the form of weeds, some useful and some harmful.

Fleabane has done well, and feverfew; that pernicious pest ragwort always does well whatever the summer, but here I note as I start the descent into the valley, at least the caterpillars are doing their bit to eat it down. They don't stop it spreading from the root system but they do stop it seeding, which is important.

The blessed cool as I enter the woodlands is refreshed by a light breeze, and there by the field edge I see a small patch of standing wheat without the heads.

This is not the work of rabbits, who tend to eat the stems right down, leaving tell-tale saucer-shaped deserts where the woodland meets the arable. In any case, this field is rabbit-fenced. Before me I see the culprits: young grey squirrels running into the crop, gnawing off a head of wheat, skimming up and over the rabbit-fencing, and then into the woods with their prizes.

A little ribbon of grey at the back and a tuft of wheat at the front, each squirrel flows up a tree to hide its find, and then once more down the trunk, across the ride, up and over the rabbit-netting and into the field.

As I walk closer, they take cover in the trees, chattering gruffly from their hideaways. I have dogs that can catch squirrels, but that is not legal any more, so the farmer will have either to trap them or to endure the damage.

You can fly hawks at squirrels very effectively, which is popular in America, but the hawk risks sustaining damage when catching, for squirrels have a nasty bite. Thus these raptors are often flown wearing leather 'spats' to protect their feet. Relatively few people have the time and commitment that is necessary to keep birds of prey, for they require a huge amount of each, but it is wonderful watching them at work.

Above me, talking of birds of prey, a trio of buzzards slides across the thermals, mewing to each other. I can either watch my footing on the slope, or watch the buzzards, so I do each alternately and neither very well.

Thus it is that I am looking at my feet one minute and the next I am nearly knocked over by a roebuck which has left it until the very last minute to leave its sanctuary in the woods, and so, as roe often do, gone from a place of safety to one of danger.

Well, it would be if I was dangerous to roe today, but I am not, so we look at each other for a long moment and then it continues helter-skelter down the path in full view instead of going back into shelter. It is a good specimen, and I know the stalker here, who will undoubtedly spare this beast for a year or two longer, for he is careful with his culling.

Down near the bottom of the valley, where the brook is dry and caked with weeds, there are rabbits. Therefore I can send on two very well-behaved dogs, which have been twice restrained from breaking the law today, and now can chase legitimate quarry as a reward. The dark cloud has lifted, and it looks as if our rain will not be coming today.