He can point to the exact field his great-great-grandfather first worked, and the exact spot where the original farmhouse stood before it burned down in the 1930s. Five generations of the same family, the same land, and — he’ll tell you plainly — five very different ideas about what farming is supposed to feel like.

The pressure to expand

For years he followed the same instinct most of his neighbours did — more land, more stock, more machinery, always chasing scale. “I thought bigger meant safer. It took me a long time to work out it just meant busier.”

What changed

A bad year — health, not weather — forced him to scale back out of necessity rather than choice. What surprised him was that the farm survived it fine. Smaller, calmer, and by his own account, more enjoyable than it had been in a decade.

What he’d tell the next generation

His daughter is likely to take over the farm eventually. His advice to her isn’t about technique or machinery. “Just don’t let the land run you. It’s patient. It’ll still be here whether you rush or not — so there’s no need to rush.”