Seagull food

Out drilling breadmaking wheat today, and providing a feast for a host of seagulls by ripping up slugs and worms from just under the surface of the ground. The reward for my generosity: they shat all over my windscreen

The words vegans use.

If I had a fiver for every time I've been told: "No, we vegans NEVER use emotive and accusing language about meat eaters!", I'd be able to give up farming. Odd, then, to see this letter in The Spectator this week. A reply has been sent.

Bruchid beetle

This little fellow is a bruchid beetle. He and ten billion on his closest chums got into my bean crop and make a right mess of it.  They drill little holes in each bean (also just visible in the picture). This means the crop is no good for human consumption, and is downgraded to animal feed. We sprayed insecticide to kill them early in the season, but the hot weather meant an enormous late flush - hence the damage. This one on my kitchen table was one of the late arrivals, and somehow survived the combine, the trailer and being bagged up for week or two, and so by the time I started cleaning up a sample of beans for germination and 'thousand grain weight' testing, he was probably feeling a bit groggy. Still, most of his chums will have perished in the field.

Flea beetles

It looks innocuous, but here I'm trying to save my oilseed rape crop. It was sown perfectly, in fabulous conditions, and had a hot rain the next day. It started to grow, but then the flea beetles arrived, and wiped the crop out. Until the ban on neonicotinoids, we could have kept them at bay with a coating on the seed itself. Now, we have to fill up the sprayer with pyrethroid insecticide, which is less than selective, and drive across the field. A lot of deaths.

Hopping to safety?

This poor little chap was trying his best to not be noticed among the stubble and straw. Luckily, we were having tea break, and were able to guide him to safety at the edge of the field. I bet many others weren't so fortunate.

Some lucky survivors

This plucky grasshopper and his curious beetle-like chum (at 2 o'clock from him) were found crawling over the combine today as we finished. They had made it out of the crop alive - unlike, I suspect, many of their companions down at ground level.

Soon to die....

Tucked away in this web, built carefully among the ripening wheat stalks, lives a spider. The poor creature will soon be crushed to death by the combine harvester as it gathers the milling wheat, which will be shipped off to make bread. The bread will, of course, be labelled 'suitable for vegetarians'.