A LOUD hum filled the air. Standing between a berberis shrub and a ceanothus, the contented buzz of hundreds of bumble bees swept over me as they went about collecting nectar and pollinating the flowers. After a cold, showery day, the onset of a balmy evening must have stimulated the bees into frantic activity. It was a peaceful end to the day. A contrast to the mood of most of the daylight hours when John and I had been sealing up the silage heap. Despite an ominous threat of rain, the grass for the silage had been cut, wilted and collected without drama. No last-minute showers, even though online forecasts depicted rain clouds.

Once sheeted over, the silage clamp cover was weighted down. This according to Millie, our terrier, is the exciting bit. She gets beside herself with anticipation as each bale is lifted from the stack and forked into the tractor bucket. As soon as there is the tiniest gap beneath a bale she is peering under, ready to dash in and seize and shake any rat underneath. When it gets to the last bale she almost freaks out with joy. A killing frenzy. John had sealed off all the escape routes, but inevitably one or two ran past us or through our legs, over the bales and away. But 17 didn’t. Most of them young rats, so it was a very good job done. Later John shot one of the escapees as it tried to go back into the bull pen. Millie winkled out a timid baby rat that we had not spotted in a pile of straw. I don’t like the idea of killing for killing's sake, but rats are vermin, and the fact that we have a neighbour in the village who actively feeds the dratted things does not help. If they are not kept under control, rat numbers can spiral exponentially.

So after a busy day, the chance to be able to step back and appreciate the garden and sounds of summer was gratefully acknowledged. The dogs stuck close to my heels as I did the rounds of my broody hens, checked that the keets in their runs with their foster mums had water and chick crumbs and that the heat lamps were on in the partridge shed to keep the chicks warm. Last stop, the hen hut to ensure that the hens are safely locked-in for the night. Safe from foxes – and rats. But no. Millie suddenly went into top hunter mode. Excitedly sniffing under the hut, scratting away beneath the floorboards, running back to me and bouncing off my legs. A sure sign that she wants some help in vermin control. I grabbed a nearby stick, poked under the hut and flushed a rat out under Millie’s nose. Snap. So that’s 20 in total today.