Country diary: Taking the long view of the farm and these fells | Farming

To make our new hedgerows as diverse as possible, we are planting a fruit tree every 200 metres in them, and last winter we planted a new apple and damson orchard at Low Park, our abandoned farm. This morning, I am popping some additional fruit trees into the hedges and checking on the orchard. The trees have been sourced from damson growers in the Lyth Valley and the apple trees from a local orchard group.

When I arrive at Low Park, which is nearby in the Lune gorge, I am cheered to see that some primroses are already flowering in the orchard as it is so sheltered. Elsewhere, winter still has us in its grip, with snow earlier in the week on the fells. As well as the primroses, my eye is drawn to some almost fluorescent orange fungi on some deadwood, which I believe is witches’ butter.

I’m lucky to have travelled a lot when I was younger, but now I am happy to stay put on the farm and observe the slow changes. There is always something happening. The old farmstead itself is being reclaimed by nature. The inside of the farmstead buildings are bright green with moss, and the trees that have seeded inside the roofless rooms have polypody ferns growing on them. A temperate rainforest is emerging inside an old farmhouse.

It seems incredible that within my lifetime people were washing and dressing in this house, and doing everyday jobs. To get to school, the children were hauled over the River Lune in a wooden box suspended on metal cables so they could reach the railway station. The Ingleton branch line ran nearby, as well as the mainline behind the farm. The farm operated its own railway crossing across the west coast mainline, until the arrival of the M6 50 years ago cut off the farm’s access.

The broken cables from the box across the river still dangle down and are becoming slowly engulfed by a tree. Gradually, nature is reclaiming the farming history of this place. As I drive the quad bike back to our own farmhouse, about three miles away, I wonder if one day nature will reclaim that as well, and upland farming here will only be the memory of a few.