I love the TV advert for Irish beef with the strap line “everything is alright here”.

I would be wrong if I were to apply this to the farm this season. We have had adequate rain (23-30mm) over the jubilee weekend. So, the winter barley and winter beans look just perfect. The winter wheat is overflowing with potential but will need a further rain in coming 10 to 14 days to finish this crop.

But the spring sown crops are a disaster. The barley and wheat are markedly thin due to the dry spring and poor conditions that followed drilling. I have had to redrill 32 ha of Linseed, which after the recent rain is now flying. However, it has an expected harvest date of mid-October. A further 17ha of Linseed was written off this past weekend and will be drilled with OSR at the end of July.

This week is a busy week with Groundswell followed by an evening out in London on both Wednesday and Thursday.

Being busy is good. Frequently we spend all week flying about, driving up and down fields either drilling, spraying or fertilizer spreading. Followed the harvest period. I certainly enjoy this, and I enjoy seeing the countryside around me. But recently I have discovered that I need to take a longer slower look so that I see the true heartbeat of the environment. When I started farming 36 years ago, I decided to put a new access to a field. I went to the particular corner make plans, only to be stopped in my tracks. Just where I wanted to bulldoze the hedge, I found a healthy young oak tree. It was about 3m high, and the trunk was probably about 150mm in diameter. That ended my plans. I thought nothing more of this until suddenly this spring I noticed the tree again. It has grown magnificently and stands even taller and stronger (picture 1). It has done this quietly and slowly, whilst all around it rushes about like ants.

This has motivated me to look at other oak trees on the farm. The small oak that I used to climb as a youngster in my garden has quietly grown to 2.2m circumference. This ages it at 120 years (picture 2). It has swamped the almond tree and the hedge below is slowly giving up. The cherry tree that had a full canopy when I was a boy is now lopsided with half of its canopy gone. Slowly, very slowly the oak is dominating.

For years I have look to the skyline to the east. A massive oak stands there, exposed to the 4 winds, yet in an act of defiance it’s branches stretch equally in all directions. I took a cycle ride up to visit this giant. It’s girth was an impressive 4.75m, meaning it has stood proudly for about 300 years (picture 3). It grows on the remote Hatley Wilds, which until quite recently was unfarmed due to its heavy soils.

But it is hard to find Oak tree that a really much bigger than this. Mostly all oaks were felled to build galleons before steel was used for ship building.

The only tree that I have found that far exceeds this by some margin is in the grounds of Wimpole Hall. Measuring in at a massive 8.5m. A giant that has stood for 800 years. Yet this tree stands there in its prime. Recently it has had its boughs trimmed as the National Trust has to be mindful of dead timber falling on visitors and fearful of the legal action that follows. This has given the tree a rather squat appearance but might well reinvigorate the tree for many years ahead.

The youngest of these trees, aged according to wbrc.org.uk, is 60 years. The oldest 800 years. There is probably no reason why any of these trees cannot survive to 1000 years old. They stand within our environment, nurturing and caring for many other species. I will certainly care for them, just like I did 36 years ago when I first saw that healthy young tree.

They are all remarkable.

Stay safe this harvest, John.