“Spring’s pardon comes, a sweetening of the air.” To writers such as poet Carol Ann Duffy, the season has always brought inspiration; but to farmers, spring spells aspiration.
- When is the lambing season?
- Why do lambs get their tails docked?
- British sheep breeds and how to recognise them
Across the countryside at this time of year, farmers are welcoming new arrivals to their burgeoning flocks. Their hopes for the year ahead rest upon the safe arrival of these newborn lambs; the outcome of this intense time can make or break the farm as a business.
Our upland fell farm is on the fringe of the Lake District and here – at about 300m above sea level – the weather isn’t as kind as in some other parts of the UK. While farmers in some areas lamb as early as January, we choose to lamb outside in early April when the climate, on average, is milder and drier, and the grass has started growing – which helps the growth of the newborn lambs.
For farmers, the weeks before lambing are nerve-racking, and incredibly industrious. We are busy ensuring that supplies are well-stocked, barns and stables disinfected and the flocks have been moved about into position. A gentle knot of anxiety rises in the chest – until the first lamb arrives safely.
After that, things progress slowly, building to the peak lambing days, during which time we are just too busy caring for the sheep and their young, as well as those labouring, to even consider our own emotions.
On our farm, most of the lambs are born outside. This means less work for us: there aren’t great numbers of sheep inside, needing bedding and feed. We only operate during daylight hours. There are no nighttime shifts for us – which is a good job, as I love my bed. After having twins myself and the accompanying sleep disturbance when they were young, I have never been so grateful to lamb outside.
We still do incredibly long days, with my husband monitoring the lambing fields by quad bike at first light, bringing in any problems to the barns. The barns have pens set up for any problems that might arise, from thin sheep needing extra feed, to lack of first milk, to ‘mis-mothering’, when sheep are lambing too close to each other. I care for these sheep, staying in the farmyard to fetch, carry, feed the troops and care for our pet lambs.
Pet lambs, also known as orphan lambs or cades, are those that have no viable mother. This may be because their mother is not able to produce enough milk; or because after lambing, the mother is too weak to nurture the lamb; or because the mother has rejected the lamb. I am the caregiver for these lambs, feeding and supporting them until they can manage independently. My children help out, too.
When delivering that last feed of the day, I often feel like I am the only one working, so one evening I took my camera and tripod to the stable. With a remote shutter control in my left hand, I set about trying to capture this biblical scene. The image I captured triggers so many senses. I can still feel the warmth of that heat lamp on my face – it is warming a new lamb behind the small fence. Equally, I can feel the cold creeping up my back from the shadows of nightfall. I can smell the sweetness of the milk powder used to produce the bottle feed. The lamb sat on my lap warms my thighs even through my waterproof trousers. And I can hear the gentle rustling of straw as the other lambs potter by my side, awaiting their feed.
There is nothing like the warmth of the spring sunshine to significantly help the frenzied activity on the farm. Feeling the sunlight warm your face brings a reassurance that the newborns are feeling the warmth, too. Lambs are born wet, so attentive mothers lick off their newborns to help them dry. This also stimulates the lamb to be active and take its first step to reach colostrum supplies. Colostrum is the lamb’s first milk; it is chock-full of goodness that helps build the immune system. Lambs will only thrive if they get sufficient colostrum within the first 12 hours. The warmer the weather, the more efficient this process is.
One year, we had a dreadful storm for a few days during peak lambing. Over 200 lambs were born while the heavens opened and gale winds blew – the worst environment for newborns. It was truly devastating; we had never had so many lambs in the warming box at the same time. Many newborns and mothers were brought in to escape the extreme weather conditions. Makeshift pens were assembled under every available sheltered roof-space and we spent an exhausting 72 hours fighting to save lives.
Although this was an unprecedented weather event, we are working to try and build resilience into our system – healthier sheep and stronger genetics should really help, as we know our climate is changing.
Despite the hectic nature of spring on the farm, the bucolic elements of daily life don’t go unnoticed. The gentle breeze that passes through the flush of awakening in the flora and fauna of our landscapes, the rebirth of creatures aside from lambs, and the lengthening of days as the earth warms and looks forward to summer.
Once the strenuous workload has eased, watching the lambs grow from strength to strength is very satisfying. The lambs are a big part of our farm business, and as humans, lambing time adds to the awe of being alive.
Amy's book depicting farming life in Cumbria, Forty Farms, is out now.
Discover more
- Is the border collie the world's most intelligent dog? Stunning photography reveals just how clever this sheep dog is
- Spring wildlife guide: what to look for and where to see it
- How to take better photographs of your dog
- Most beautiful dog photos on Earth celebrated in awards
Main image: Amy Bateman
This article may contain affiliate links and we may earn a small commission through them. For more information, please see our Affiliates FAQ.
