A crofter's diary: Making hay in Bressay

Viewed from the island of Bressay, the gently undulating silhouette of the South Mainland stretches into the distance.

On a fine summer evening, the flashing navigation beacon on the island of Mousa and the rotating beam emanating from Shetland’s iconic, earliest formal lighthouse at Sumburgh Head are clearly visible.

The burbling call of the skylark and curlew from moorland breeding territories juxtaposed with snipe, oystercatcher and occasional red-throated diver make for a spectacular soundscape as the lights of Lerwick fade only slightly in the perpetual daylight of the simmer dim – the dialect term for the twilight evenings of mid-summer.

And yet, a few weeks later once July has arrived, the crofter must begin to imagine the forthcoming winter and put in place measures to mitigate the dramatic, exhilarating combination of wind, rain, frost and, occasional, snow.

It is said, admittedly in jest, that the hardiness and admirable qualities of the Shetland breed of sheep mean they are able to survive on the promise of a blade of grass each spring. Notwithstanding, the cultivated fields and rigs around Shetland subsequently begin to appear resplendent in a patchwork quilt of colour as crops are taken, processed and baled to be preserved either as silage or hay for the months ahead.

The result is a dynamic picture of tractors, mowers, harvesters, balers and many helpers outside late into the evening.

The work is invaluable – undertaken with a view of providing full stomachs and happy animals at a time of year when conditions can, occasionally, encourage an extra jacket to be donned!

At Garths Croft Bressay, there are two one-acre hay parks immediately in front of the house, separated by a sinuous track.

With great joy in years past, I have employed the astounding excavating, (perhaps that should be tunnelling!) qualities of Saddleback, Tamworth and Iron Age pigs to rotovate prior to reseeding without artificial fertiliser.

I walk past these fields daily through summer as the sward rises with every rain shower and subsequent period of warmth and marvel at the array of wildflowers on display. The orchids, particularly, are a joy to behold, their ornate form and delicate colouring a triumph of nature.

Cutting hay to provide sustainable winter feed must be carefully timed and a regular, forensic eye is cast. Too soon and the grass has not reached its full height and potential; too late and it will have fallen over, gone to seed and be of reduced nutritional benefit.

My overriding concern is influenced moreover by the wildflowers. As soon as these have seeded and thereby likely to bloom the following year, I head into the stone-built, nineteenth century byre and hitch the mower to my antiquated but no less unreliable 1962 Massey Ferguson 35 tractor, the manoeuvrable and multi-tasking workhorse for generations of crofters across the Northern Isles.

Weather forecasts can be scrutinised but the reality of producing good quality hay requires a period for the grass to wilt followed by subsequent days of turning and spreading to allow maximum air flow and drying before it can be baled.

Historically, a large haystack, termed a des, was built within the croft yard, constructed on a raised stone base, or steed, to prevent moisture incursion. It was secured with ropes and weights known as jardfasts, to protect the valuable crop from extremes of weather.

Today, most of the hay is picked up, compressed, and packed by mechanical baler but it needs to be dry (technically below 20 per cent moisture content) so that it does not spoil through storage and the sheep turn their noses up at your midwinter offering whilst continuing to look imploringly for any viable edible alterative.

Hay cutting got underway at Garths Croft Bressay in early August. The subsequent fortnight was somewhat challenging with the occasional deluge slowing the progress of the crop as it turned from lush green to golden brown in colour.

Most folk employ wonderfully named hay “tedders” or “wufflers” to mechanically aerate and gather the cut grass.

I enjoy the positive mental health benefits of picking up a hay rake and manually walking up and down the field, turning the hay, fully immersed in the great outdoors and inspiring landscape.

Baling, carting, stacking and storing the hay is immensely satisfying and a full barn provides peace of mind. The divine, sweet smell of Shetland meadow grass is present every time the door is thrown open, a crop for supplementary winter feed and a reminder of enjoyable days toiling in the fields.

Were you to join me in January, I will appear like the Pied Piper, surrounded by insistent sheep as I deliver the fruits of summer rations!

If you are inspired by Chris's diary and would like to learn more about life in Shetland, head over to our Live, Work, Study section.

What is crofting?

Crofting is unique to Scotland and an integral part of life in the Highlands and Islands.

Central to the crofting ethos is appropriate management of the land, which is separated into small units of agricultural landholding, and consideration of the environment.

The Crofting Commission is responsible for overseeing the rights, responsibilities and approximately 20,000 holdings across the country.

Within Shetland, generations of crofters worked closely together to complete many vital activities and this has resulted in a strong culture of community and common purpose.

Today, crofting encourages local food production and economic activity in remote and rural areas, provides a home for families to reside and contributes inherently to the landscape’s “tapestry”, ecology, and biodiversity.

Garths Croft Bressay is on Instagram Chris Dyer (@garthscroftbressay) • Instagram photos and videos and a short film of haymaking activities can be seen here - Chris Dyer (@garthscroftbressay) • Instagram photos and videos