crimson clover seeds as a cover crop, we have been blanketing them with a decomposing leaf mulch; a once massive pile of brown crunchy leaves that has, over the course of a year and a half, condensed down into a dark black mulch filled with moisture, worms, and life-giving nutrients. How our patience has paid off! By covering our beds with this soil-feeding concoction of leaves we are generating new soils while protecting the old. You know how we get those heavy winter rain storms that used to be snow? Well, not only do they challenge our winter imagery of an idyllic expanse of snow capped mounded garden beds but they also impact the movement of soil on our property. When rain falls with such speed and intensity it travels quickly across our farm and carries our soils with it. Bye Bye hours of work planning crop succession plans, composting, and bed-mounding. Cover crops help to stabilize our soil in the winter with their supportive root systems but for beds that were not able to germinate in time before the frost, the leaf mulch can act as a secondary defense against extreme storms. While some of this mulch might get carried away from stormwater runoff it will preserve the soil already generated underneath them. And aside from protection from storms, the leaf mulch helps feed and protect the soil-dwelling organisms like bacteria, fungi, protozoa, mites, and nematodes that interact with everything planted in those beds. The USDA says that in healthy soils, “there are more soil microorganisms (microbes for short) in a teaspoonful of soil than there are people on the earth.” These are some of the friends we are keeping in mind when we use regenerative agricultural techniques to grow food for our community.
[insert buzzword like innovative, new, creative]. While I am grateful for the resources that we can procure from long-time supporters of our work through grants, sometimes (let’s be honest, often) I get frustrated with the grant-funded nonprofit system that pits organizations against one another for the same pool of resources creating an environment that promotes competition rather than collaboration. This is problematic because it ignores the intersectionality of important causes that nonprofits work towards. While the nonprofit structure feels like an alternative to our capitalist society that feeds off exploitation of working class individuals, it still is stuck in a capitalist system, and thus often relies on funding from wealthy corporations & individuals. This keeps our existence at the whim of these corporations & individuals and whether it suits their interests to fund our work; work that is putting regeneratively grown food on people’s plates, bringing infants, elders, and everyone in between into nature, and building community in a country infatuated with the false narrative of rugged individualism.
as unrestricted funds in the biz). This gives us the freedom to use those funds & labor towards already established projects allowing us to spend more time growing food to promote food sovereignty in our community, stewarding the land so that future generations are given the same gift of nature that we enjoy, and sharing what we learn with our community. And as a bonus, less time behind our computers writing grants. These contributions also establish a relationship based in reciprocity where we are able to better meet the needs, hopes, and dreams of individuals in our community rather than those assumed by people and organizations with more resources. Fundraising is not a perfect process either but there are paths to follow that ground the work in justice (see this link for info on an improved vision of fundraising as a movement). When we are in a system that tells us to put our needs above anyone else's, tells us that the dollar, and not one’s personhood, is the bottom line, and shows us that most people who hold power do not care if people are getting nutrient-rich, let alone culturally significant, food, I consider our work that centers the well being of our community radical work.
This letter was initially meant to be a short note about what I’m up to as the agroecology coordinator putting our gardens to rest & battling stormwater and not an argument for community building as resistance to systems of oppression but life is full of all sorts of unexpected twists and turns. To honor the initial inspiration of this letter I’ll leave you with an excerpt of wintery joy I experienced at Freetown Farm. In November we were lucky enough to get some snow that hit during one of our final morning harvests. As fat flakes of snow propelled by the frigid wind pelted my face I was reminded of the energy that winter can bring. I often am challenged by winter’s demand for a slowing of pace and the shorter days’ call to rest which made me forget the raw, electric energy that a blast of cold air petaled with snowflakes elicits. All of us in the garden were reminded of this simultaneously, as everyone took a moment from whatever leafy green they were harvesting to turn skywards and show their teeth to the gray clouds as smiles stretched across everyone’s faces. As I continued harvesting and processing, newly reinvigorated by this special experience, I cherished the painful pricks of cold in my fingertips, not knowing if I would have another snow this winter. While I am happy that I do not have to consistently spray bok choy with just-above-freezing-temp water, I was grateful for the reminder that winter is still very much a season of life, just one infused with its own unique flavor. Ever Growing, Simon Comments are closed.
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