What I found when I stepped into life at Ayrshire Farm
Environmental science student discovers real lessons in stewardship & biodiversity
Cattle on the move, calm and unhurried beneath a wide Virginia sky.
About the author: Olivia Shores is Ayrshire Farm’s 2025 summer intern. A rising senior at Shenandoah University majoring in Environmental Studies with a minor in Biology, Olivia is passionate about ecology, plant-insect interactions, and ecosystem restoration.
I’ve always known this part of Virginia was beautiful. I grew up in Winchester, just over the mountain from Ayrshire Farm, surrounded by wildlife, big skies, and winding roads that cut through fields. I’ve also always been curious not just about what I could see, but about how it all worked. Why do certain plants grow here and not there? What makes a stream healthy? What happens when people do things differently?
That curiosity is what led me to study environmental science at Shenandoah University, and it’s what brought me to Ayrshire Farm this summer.
But before anything else, I’ll say this: I thought I had a general idea of how a farm like this ran. I didn’t.
A Farm with Layers
From the outside, Ayrshire looks like a few big fields. But once you step inside the gates, it’s a maze of moving parts. On my first day, farm manager Chris Damewood gave me a comprehensive tour, and I quickly realized this place was far more than just cows and crops.
There were wooded areas for pigs, a greenhouse, fruit trees, compost piles taller than I am, barns for every kind of livestock, rows of bee boxes, and a mechanical shop where everything gets fixed.
A glimpse from day one. This young piglet had already made itself at home in the woods.
It was beautiful. But more than that, it was intentional. Every piece had a purpose. And every person I met seemed to know their place within it.
From Soil to Streams
Over the next few weeks, I was given the opportunity to work in various areas. I helped with garden care, harvested honey, pruned fruit trees, and took care of the many cats you’ll find around the farm. I spent most of my time doing things I had learned about in school, only now I was seeing them play out in real time.
Prepping for honey harvest. The bees stayed calm, and the suit did its job.
I collected soil samples using a metal probe and hauled them across fields in the heat. It was sweaty work, but the idea of sending those samples off to a lab and learning about what lives in the dirt made it worth it.
I also did stream testing, measuring things like pH and identifying the tiny aquatic insects that tell you whether a stream is thriving or stressed. One of the coolest moments was realising how clean the stream systems on the farm were. Not just clear, but free of synthetic inputs, thanks to Ayrshire being a Certified Organic farm.
Jeffries Branch runs cool and clear between the trees.
In another project, I set out pan traps to measure insect biodiversity across different habitats: the driveway orchard, a pasture, a wooded area, and the garden. I then counted and compared the results. I’ve learned about the importance of maintaining biodiversity, but designing and running a project myself was different. It was inspiring to see such variety firsthand and gave me a deeper appreciation for what healthy land can support.
An insect pan trap filled with soapy water is used to sample and compare biodiversity across different farm habitats.
The People Behind the Work
Farming isn’t just soil, fences, and fields. It’s people. And what struck me most was how many people here do their jobs with so much care.
During my first week, I spent time shadowing a livestock team member. We drove across the fields, rotated cattle for grazing, reapplied natural fly repellents, and checked feed. He’d been working here for over 20 years, and he told me without hesitation or being asked just how much he loved it. The cows, the land, the routine. He said it all with pride, and I believed him.
Another day, I was eating lunch in the office with about five other people, all from different departments. I was in the middle of my insect survey project, and they all asked what I was doing and how it worked. Everyone was genuinely curious; not just about their jobs, but about each other’s. That openness made an impression.
And then there was the day my tire went flat. Before I could even ask for help, the farm mechanic, James, took my keys, fixed the tire, handed me a different car to use, and sent me on my way. No big deal. Just part of the day.
What I Took With Me
Before this internship, I knew the terms: “rotational grazing”, “chemical-free”, and “sustainable practices”. I’ve written essays and taken exams. But doing the work showed me both the real challenge and the real value of those practices.
This kind of farming takes more effort. It takes more hands, more communication, more awareness. A hundred small things are happening at once, and each one plays a role in keeping the land healthy and the animals comfortable.
I learned that stewardship isn’t just about protecting something. It’s about knowing it, watching it, adjusting when you need to, and respecting the work it takes to keep the balance.
Why It Matters
Farms like Ayrshire don’t just produce food. They care about how they make it, and they are open about the process.
That matters.
It matters to see animals cared for in ways that go beyond minimum standards. It matters to learn that runoff isn’t a given. It matters to see that biodiversity can thrive in a working landscape. And it matters that everyone on this farm seems to be paying attention, every day, to how their choices affect the land around them.
For someone like me who’s just starting in this field, that’s been the most valuable lesson of all. For someone buying from a farm like Ayrshire, it’s a reminder that thoughtful farming makes a difference not just in how it tastes, but in how it’s done.