Harrowsmith – June 2019

Harrowsmith Summer 2019 | 37

ENVIRONMENT: WATER WAYS

As I headed to the barn to check

on the status of our lambing ewes

(female sheep), I was struggling

through the onslaught of 30 cm

of snow that was still coming

down hard, stranding us at our

farmstead. The laneway and roads

were plugging up rapidly with the

gale-force winds that were driving

the snow into drifts. I thought of

starting the equipment—tractors to

clear the snow—but that would have

to wait until a lull in the lambing

schedule and the end of the storm.

As I entered the barn, I was

greeted by the tiny bleats of

newborn lambs. It’s always a special

sound, a sign of resilient new life,

particularly poignant in the depth

of a winter snowstorm. I quickly

penned the lambs with their mother

in a lambing jug, to keep the family

unit together in the swirl of sheep

and older lambs. As I glanced up

from my job, I realized that the

ewes were swirling around, rather

more than usual, as if searching

for something. I looked over at

the feeders and there seemed

to be plenty of feed. I looked for

abandoned lambs, but all I saw were

quizzical little woolly offspring,

trying to keep up with their agitated

mothers. At that point, I was looking

around quizzically as well.

I soon realized that the water in

the troughs had been completely

drained and no water was filling the

automatic waterers. I groaned and

thought, “Water, water everywhere,

but not a drop to drink!” The water

pipes in the barn were still warm,

but with much fuss, pulling out of

water lines, pulling off well lids

and making multiple calls to my

husband, who is Mr. Fix-It for

situations like this, we realized that

the main water line to the barn had

frozen! Nothing is worse for a

farmer in winter than coping with

frozen water lines, especially

when managing lactating animals.

Lactating animals require

significant amounts of water so they

can produce quantities of milk for

their lambs or calves. We would

have to hand-hose water into the

barn, several hundred metres from

the house, until lambing was done.

Eventually, we moved all the

animals to a different, colder barn

with water lines intact. Such is

the daily drama of farming, and

water is often central to that drama.

I don’t think Coleridge had sheep

farms in mind when he penned

his lines about water, but it sure is

applicable to stranded shepherds

as well as mariners.

Springtime is also a significant

test of our water management skills.

We are lambing out hundreds of

ewes and prefer to have them lamb

outdoors, despite the vagaries of

springtime weather in eastern

Ontario. “April showers bring May

flowers” is a delightful little rhyme

if your plan is to manage flowers.

It’s not so helpful when you are

managing lambs.

Lambs come out wet, as most of

you can imagine, and a crucial part

of the bonding process between ewe

and lamb, and the survival of the

lamb, is the way the ewe dries off her

lamb, absorbs its scent and keeps

the lamb in a specific, coveted (for

the ewe, not the human!) spot in the

field. These spots and the drying-off

process are dependent on keeping

the family units in a relatively dry

environment, free of water and

mud...easier said than done in an

eastern Ontario spring.

Giving ewes and their lambs the

best possible lambing environment,

dry and clean, is paramount for

success. We have selected fields

that are higher and well drained,

fenced heavily against predators.

To keep these fields drained, we

have created swales and ditches

for water to drain into and around

buildings and hilly areas. We also

W

ater, water everywhere / Nor any drop

to drink,” said Samuel Coleridge in

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

I often think of these words as I struggle with the

drama that is water on our Perth, Ontario, farm.

I know that it sounds a bit dramatic as a way of

describing water management and conservation

on a farm, but ’tis the truth!

“

SARAH LOTEN