As the soft greens of a Scottish June spread across the fields and the daylight lingers long into the evening, the farm enters one of its most demanding — and awe-inspiring — times of year. Here on our organic farm, June marks the tail end of lambing and calving season, a period that is as much about life’s miracles as it is about hard, hands-on work.

The Season of Arrival

By June, most of the ewes have lambed and the calves are making their first confident steps in the meadows. But while the frantic peak of births often hits earlier in spring, this month remains crucial. It’s the time when we ensure that the youngest members of our farm are thriving, bonding with their mothers, and adapting to the rhythms of outdoor life.

The nights may be warmer, but they are rarely restful. We keep a close eye on late births, assist new mothers who may be struggling to feed or bond with their young, and monitor the animals for signs of distress or illness. Every creature is an individual, and on an organic farm, we treat them as such. Intervention is kept to a minimum, but we remain vigilant — always present, always listening.

Nurturing Naturally

Organic farming means working with nature, not against it. Our ewes and cows are kept on a rotational grazing system, which not only keeps the pasture healthy and diverse but also ensures that our animals have constant access to fresh, nutrient-rich forage. For lambs and calves, this diet supports healthy growth and helps establish robust immune systems early in life.

We do not use routine antibiotics or synthetic growth promoters. Instead, we prioritise preventative care — clean bedding, low-stress handling, and close observation. June is when our choices in the depths of winter, in terms of feed quality and shelter, begin to show their results in healthy offspring and contented mothers.

The Human Side

Behind the scenes, lambing and calving are deeply emotional times. There are moments of joy — a strong calf born unaided, a first-time ewe proving to be an attentive mother. And there are moments of heartache — losses, setbacks, and unexpected complications. Every farmer carries these moments with them. They teach us humility and remind us that life and land are never separate.

It’s also a time of community. On farms like ours, sharing knowledge, lending hands, or simply checking in. There’s a quiet, unspoken solidarity among those who understand that food begins not in supermarkets, but with muddy boots, sleepless nights, and deep respect for animals and ecosystems.

Looking Forward

As June rolls toward July, we begin to shift gears. The focus moves toward haymaking, weaning, and pasture management. But the foundations we lay now — through attentive care, responsible stewardship, and organic principles — shape the wellbeing of our animals for the rest of the year.

And so, under the wide Scottish skies, among the chorus of bleating lambs and lowing calves, we carry on. Tired, yes. But grateful. Because this — this is the pulse of the land. And here, at the height of summer, it beats strongest.