Farmer and photographer Amy Bateman captures the new life and hard labour of lambing season in Cumbria
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.
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. Thi
