Much of this spring has felt like a trip through an Irish shire — constant, unrelenting clouds bringing with them an overabundance of rain. We’re holding onto the old adage: a cold, wet May fills the barn with hay. That remains to be seen.
What we do know is that the sun finally showed its strength this week, offering a warming reminder that summer has indeed arrived. We even had our first day above the 90-degree mark. While the cooler, wetter-than-normal spring has made many typical farm tasks more difficult — from delayed planting to erosion issues and slow hay growth — it’s actually benefited one part of the farm: the cattle, especially the spring calves.
Angus cattle trace their roots back to 12th-century Scotland — a land known for its cool, damp climate. Research and firsthand observation of our herd confirm that they thrive best in air temperatures ranging from the high 40s to low 50s. And this spring has delivered just that. So, while we were battling with muddy fields and slow-growing pastures, the cattle were quite content.
But as we all know, weather in upstate New York can change faster than a fox on the run. This week brought a sudden and sharp rise in temperatures. One day, our cattle were enjoying conditions reminiscent of the Scottish Highlands; the next, they were facing heat more akin to the Texas lowlands. Such a drastic shift can bring about heat stress, especially when the animals haven’t had time to acclimate.
So what can we do? This is where our tree lines and woodlots shine. Every summer pasture we rotate through includes natural shade — whether from hedgerows or wooded sections. When we designed our grazing system, shade access was just as important as water access and forage sustainability. Black Angus cattle need shade in the summer, period. That’s why, even now, we continue planting trees — both hardwoods and softwoods — with livestock movement and comfort in mind.
There’s a saying: “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second-best time is now.” Our goal is to plant at least 100 trees every year. This year’s varieties include black walnut, maple, white oak, black cherry, white pine, white cedar, and Fraser fir. They’ve been potted and will be planted throughout the year with various purposes in mind — summer shade, winter wind protection, timber, firewood, and even simple recreation.
The idea of planting a tree you’ll never sit under — but your grandchildren will — rings deeply true for us. On this multigenerational farm, especially one raising livestock, we are now reaping the rewards of that kind of long-term thinking. I often reflect on my great-grandfather, who established and preserved woodlots on our farm, saying that his great-grandson would benefit. I think about planting hedge lines with my grandfather and the riparian buffer we installed in 2011 after the hurricane. Today, we’re living in the comfort and shelter of those decisions.
As summer unfolds, we dream of warm days winding down in the pasture — calves dancing through lush stands of grass, their mothers chewing their cud, all set to the evening symphony of lightning bugs drifting in the breeze and toads croaking by the pond.
We hope you, too, find yourself enjoying a decadent ice cream cone or a cool glass of lemonade under the shade of a mighty oak, a tall maple, or a reverent pine. And if you do, take a moment to appreciate the gracious act of someone — perhaps 100 years ago —who planted that tree or preserved that forest, so that you could be comforted on a heavenly summer day. As you ponder this, consider paying it forward. Not just by planting a tree, but in the principle of it, helping others and expecting nothing in return.
“Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.” — 1 John 4:11
God bless,
John V