Sue Woodcock: The fading light of changing seasons

My godson and his fiance left with Tara who had enjoyed her stay I am sure, but the moment they packed their bags into the car she sat firmly in the back seat and wouldn't budge just in case they might forget to take her.

The sheep are still munching away on the rich grass. The lambs seem to be recovering from their fly strike. The goats have taken to not only investigating any bags but a couple of them seem to like nibbling on clothing, preferably jeans but a good jumper will do.

The chickens seem to have gone on strike in the egg laying department, either that or they are hiding from me. I am sure they think it's funny when I have guests and I actually need eggs.

The turkeys strut round the yard on an inquisitive route and watch for me to head towards the feed shed. The turklets are growing well and when I discover if they are male or female, which won't be for a while, I may have to move any males on. At night the geese gather in the shelter of the shippon but if anyone approaches they rush in an hysterical gaggle back to the field to reassemble when the coast is clear.

I get birds of prey up here from time to time. I was watching a kestrel hovering over the mire, battling with a gust of wind yet remaining focused on what it was hunting. They are lovely birds and I watch their aerial skills with wonder. I was surprised to see a merlin hunting just after the kestrels had left. I welcome them because as the cats have proved with the array of dead mice on my kitchen floor in the mornings, there are vermin around that need culling. The peregrines that sometimes fly over the field are spectacular and occasionally there are goshawks as well. I even heard an owl the other night. There is a myriad of wildlife up here for those who have the time and inclination to watch.

I saw several shooting stars the other night to the north. When it is clear with the moon almost full the moonlight casts its silver glow over the fields and hills making it look almost magical. On such nights the peace is almost heavenly.

I had Channel 4 up here filming for The Village set in Grassington. They were a lovely team and filmed everything. They wanted to film me feeding the sheep, the goats, the birds and even the dogs.

Then they wanted an interview with me sitting on a straw bale in the barn. All went well until the billy goat kid, Edwin, decided to eat the clothes and contents of the pockets of the interviewer and had to be evicted. This took some time and then the turkey hens started up and had to be chased out. No sooner had that been resolved then the cockerel, carefully avoiding the turkeys, decided to add his contribution.

I chased him from the barn to the shippon, to the barn porch to the little shippon, back to the barn and finally out into the fields. I am not sure who laughed more, me, the goats or the film crew. That will teach me to say how peaceful it is up here.

Then it was a rush into Skipton to get some more bits for the drain and guttering that my friend is helping with. I had managed to catch a miserable summer cold and was feeling a bit under the weather and lay down for a few minutes, waking up just in time to get ready to go and do my stint on Street Angels.

At the moment Skipton is decorated with many sheep statues and all are painted differently and are most entertaining. Last year, Grassington had curlews but of course it had to be sheep for Skipton as it means Sheep Town.

I met a great group of bikers from Amsterdam while I was in Kettlewell and the countryside is strewn with walkers. It amuses me sometimes to see them trying to work out where they are, often gazing at a map in total mystery with the map upside down or even worse, the wrong map for the area.

Occasionally I take pity and ask if they want directions. They are usually grateful, sometimes disbelieving and some even tell me they know just where they are and then set off in quite the wrong direction.

Then there are the city visitors who expect this bit of rural Yorkshire to have all the luxuries they are used to. Their shock when they cannot get a takeaway delivered without great delay and expense, or when they discover that most establishments stop serving food by 9pm is quite amusing. Life is a little different here.

In busy times it is all hands to the pumps working in the hospitality industry. When it calms down in the autumn that is the time some of us get to have a break before the build-up to Christmas, the next Bank Holiday.

I got a delivery of coal and feed for the animals to get ready for the oncoming winter. I do not intend to be stranded without either when the weather turns nasty. Already the evenings are drawing in and there is a chill in the air. Autumn is almost upon us. It is actually my favourite season and I have plenty of plans and commitments.

I have ordered a huge supply of logs and am trying to tidy up and construct a wooden coal store. Before that I must catch up on letter writing and paperwork.

CW 4/9/10