sorghumco's blog

I’ve been at Sandhill 33 years; our membership has averaged 5-8 members during that time. Several years ago, we noted that our average age was about 50 and rising – that did not appear sustainable. We made an effort to recruit younger members (which we had done in the past w/o much success); this time, it worked!

The current average age of our adult members is about 40; however, that is only part of the story. Equally important is how to transfer managerial responsibilities and a feeling of ownership from older to younger members? It is happening! Laird and I are the only ones over 40 here; Laird has been passing off/over most of his responsibilities over the last decade or so: he has been away from the farm for about half of the time (due to his role in the FIC and his work as a process consultant/teacher), and so others have taken on the work he used to do. He still does our tax filing, but Joe did it with Laird this year and is in training.

The agricultural lifestyle includes down time: winter is the time for rest: physical activity to slow down, the mind to take leave of daily details, and the spirit to rejuvenate.
I appreciate this down time. During the agricultural year, I find it difficult to relax: my mind is always thinking about what else needs to be done – similar to how it is challenging to take time off at home/on the farm. When i try to take an afternoon or day off, I constantly see unfinished projects or areas that need attention. Sometimes I jot them down on a piece of paper – so that I can forget about them in the present moment and relax! Does it work? so-so. Where will I put this list so that it will not bother me now but that I can find it later?

Mystery? What’s mysterious about frost? Water freezes at 32 F, and when the air temperature reaches that point, we (& NOA) call it frost. Open & shut case, right?
Not for me. Let me share my experiences of the last 3 weeks.
On 9/23/12 we had a low of 39 F – but there was a layer of frost on the windshield of my car that morning. Then I noted frost on the grass along the highway. OK: so how do we have OBVIOUS frost at 39F?? I did several organic farm inspections that day and the farmers reported the same phenomenon. Further: the plants/crops that are usually the most frost sensitive in our area are sweet potatoes and basil. Neither of those crops showed any frost damage; however, I noted that the soybeans on one of the farms I inspected showed frost damage on the upper leaves… totally weird.

So what’s the connection: politics & agric? In an election year in this country, I find it impossible to not have thoughts/make connections between the two.

I started this post months ago, got busy with other stuff, and forgot all about it; however, it seems just as relevant today. I find myself disinterested/disconnected from the issues discussed in the election/campaign politics.

Why? THEY ARE ALL MISSING THE POINT – including the democrats & obama. For me, the disjunct:

1. the farm bill. Overtly, this is the primary place where national politics and agric meet. For the last many decades, the farm bill has favored corporate/conventional agriculture – by paying producers subsidies for various practices: not planting crops, price supports for many crops – eg. corn, etc. This is a complicated issue, which I plan to explore in more detail in a later post; a good reference here are the writings by Michael Pollen as to how agric subsidies support corporate agric and the fast food industry.

2. For me, the issue I would love to be discussed in the election campaign is how we view our environment/nature. People in my community and folks in my every day life – we see nature as sacred. The way we live, grow food, and interact with our environment is an expression of who we are and how we relate to Gaiea/planet Earth; however, the prevailing paradigm in our society is that we humans have the right to plunder the resources on our planet.

Here is the crux of the disjunct: many people are yearning for more spirituality in their lives. “Science” has tried to explain the universe and life in mechanistic/reductionist terms and language; one of the effects is that folks deserted religion – because God/spirit was not part of the discussion. Now – we wake up and realize: surely life is not just about a job, making enough $ to survive, etc. That dulls the spirit and our relationship to spirit/nature/the divine.

In my last post about the honey bees more than a year ago, I was enthusiastic about our bees. I still am.

Our honey harvest in the fall of 2011 was once again disappointing: about 1.5 gallon of honey (1 gal=12 lb) per hive. Before the mites (early 1990s), we averaged 5 gal/hive. The last 3 years we averaged 1 – 1.5 gal/hive. So, in spite of my enthusiasm mid-summer of 2011, the bees did not make much honey. They made enough for themselves – which is, after all, their primary purpose. Because of all the attention we focus on them and giving them living accommodations, we feel we are due some honey as well. And yes, they did give us some – but not what we had become accustomed to. But hey! we were/are in a recession, eh? Income is down…..

Last winter, our bees fared well; we lost only 3 out of 22. An immediate explanation is that we had a mild winter; while that may have been a contributing factor, it does not feel primary to me. My intuition is that it was due to the the health of the bees going into the winter. OK, so why were they healthier? I don’t know – but i felt it. We had a mild and dry fall in 2011. Honey bees do better with dry than wet weather. Further, they gathered a lot of fall honey and pollen. Quite a bit of the pollen came from our own sweet sorghum crop (certified organic).

Another interesting fact: in the fall of 2011, we had 19 regular (Langstroth) hives and 3 top bar ones. Many folks think that the top bar hive is a more friendly way of beekeeping – and more healthy for the bees. However: out of the 3 hives we lost last winter, 2 were top bar and only 1 Langstroth. It is a small sample – but it is our reality. There was no obvious explanation; in fact, one of the top bar hives just dwindled and died during the fall – symptoms were similar to ones associated with colony collapse – the first that we have noted.

This is certainly a crazy spring – all over the midwest (& perhaps elsewhere) – mainly that the “normal” weather of March & April were reversed. I kept thinking that I wanted the weather in March to cool down and then in April, I wanted it warmer. So what’s the big deal? It will all even out in the end, right?

Maybe. Some of the ways it is affecting us:

* our fruit trees flowered about a month earlier than usual; at blossom time, we all worried that frost would get all/most of the fruit. It did and didn’t. Frost killed off some of the fruit – notably the saskatoon berries, and some of the pears, but it does not appear to have hurt the rest of our orchard: peaches, cherries, apples. My friend Dan Kelly who has a 5 acre apple orchard reported that the apples on the lower third of his orchard froze – but that’s ok, because otherwise he might have had too much fruit to deal with anyway (abundance can be a hardship). BUT we are still wondering – how will this turn out? will we be harvesting fruit a month earlier? or?

My posts have been scarce – writer’s blah? winter hibernation?

To summarize: we had a decent crop harvest last year – mostly because we had another unexpectedly warm fall. In fact, we had an average harvest of the sorghum, black & pinto beans (for our own consumption0, as well as buckwheat – for cover crop seed (& bee forage).

Today – Mar 15 – we are clearly in transition to spring – although it is early by the calendar. We have had several days over 70 and it’s supposed to stay that way for the next week. We had a very mild winter – results:

- less ice hockey and cross country skiing

- better for the bees; so far, we have lost only 2 hives (out of 21). This is not entirely due to mild winter, cold weather by itself does not kill honey bee colonies, but it does add stress.

- maple: because of the mild winter, some folks were speculating that the maple sap might not flow this year – but we had an average yield this season – even though it ended about 2 weeks earlier than usual.

Now the grass is GREEN again and the buds on the fruit trees are swelling. The first fruit tree blossoms (apricots) opened up today. We are pruning fruit trees, wrapping up forestry/firewood, and the gardeners have lots of seedlings planted in flats

AND the bees are bringing in bright yellow pollen – they are so excited! I love to share their enthusiasm. We went to visit the bees again today (3/15): some of them are very strong/exuberant, others are quite small and just getting going again after the winter. At this time of year, the bottom line is they are alive! & surviving! We made sure that all hives had laying queens and plenty of pollen and honey. Bees are definitely my favorite nonhuman friends….

Looking back over my posts, I detect a complaining tone – about how weather has a negative impact on our crops. But hey, that is only half of the story: after all, weather is also responsible for us having any kind of crop. Further, I like to be appreciative of good times. This is one of those times.

The heading of this post indicates “Another…”. I am referring to the fact that we had a wonderful fall last year. I reported rather dismal crop yields last year – BUT at least we had a crop; in large part due to having warm fall weather, that allowed the crops to mature – at least enough for a decent harvest.

This year we had another challenging spring; due to wet weather, we could not get our crops planted in a timely manner. So the crops were late and I wondered if they would mature (mostly the sorghum) before frost. I could not help projecting: we had a great fall last year – could it happen again this year, 2 years in a row?. Then, we had drought conditions in August: it stunted the beans and put the sorghum crop on hold (delaying maturing). However, we are now having another great fall – unseasonably warm weather. We are harvesting the sorghum before it is fully mature because it is very labor intensive: we now have a lot of visitor help as well as labor exchangers from our sister communities – Twin Oaks & Acorn in Virginia and East Wind in southern Missouri (and because we are already at the average date of the first killing frost).

At this time, we are about half way through the sorghum harvest (2 weeks into it), but I can tell already that we will have an “average” harvest – due to deliciously warm fall weather.

Thank you Gaia, nature spirits, & the Mysterious Ones for two consecutive glorious autumns!

My reference to windows in this context is a limited time period in the weather allowing for specific farm work; currently, I mean a break in the rainy weather – enough time for the soils to dry so that we can till and plant our field crops.

About 2 months ago, my post read A More Normal Spring – indicating that after 3 years of wet springs, we were having  normal spring weather – ie, the absence of small windows; that turned out to be premature. It is being another incredibly wet spring – with small windows.

In an average year (actually, I’m not sure there is such a thing anymore), all of our spring crops would be planted by now: sorghum, field corn, popcorn, corn for seed for SESE (Southern Exposure Seed Exchange), soybeans, pinto & black beans. Right now only about half of our sorghum crop is planted – and none of the others. Earlier this spring, we had windows when we could have planted these crops but it was too cool for us organic producers. A week ago, we had a 3 day window in which to work down the green manure crop & weeds, and plant. We transplanted/planted about half of our sorghum crop; we could have planted more, but the weather was once again cool and the green manure crop was not all dead yet – so we decided not to plant more. Was it the right choice?

FYI: for background of my/our experience with honey bees at Sandhill, see http://www.sandhillfarm.org/beekeeping1.php

In my experience as a farmer, it is with honey bees, that I am most humbled. A prime example is this post.

Here is what I wrote May 1:

My last post on bees – only 7 months ago – was very positive and optimistic. To recap, I was very encouraged/optimistic about our bees last fall. They appeared more vibrant and healthy than in many years. We fantasized about the year ahead: we would build up our colony numbers and have a normal honey harvest.

THEN – this winter, we lost more than half of our colonies (11 out of 20) and currently, several more are struggling for survival. How could this happen? I’ve been keeping bees for 30 years – how could I have totally misjudged this situation?

I don’t have an answer; naturally, I have theories/possible explanations:

1. It’s really the mite problem all over again: for about the last 20 years, the varroa mites have been the main challenge to honey bees in this country – they compromise the immune system of the bees, who are then susceptible to various opportunistic diseases.

2. It’s due to a new class of agricultural chemicals: systemic seed treatments; some beekeepers believe that a new class of systemic seed treatments (eg on corn and other crops) have a devastating effect on honey bees. How so? The theory is that the systemic nature of the seed treatments expresses itself in the entire plant including the pollen – which is collected by bees to feed their brood. The effect of this pollen compromises the development of the immune system and health of the bees. Further, the effect  may not be noted for 6 months or more since the pollen is stored in the hive until it is needed – which may not be until the following spring.

For me, acknowledging what I don’t know is as important as what I think I do know. I am now 65 and except for a 10 year hiatus in/with academia, have been involved in agriculture all my life. For the last 15 years I have also been an organic inspector, which has brought me into contact with many organic farmers and processors of organic foods.

I figger I am now officially a senior – even though retirement is not in any of my plans. In one of my paradigms, my senior status indicates that I am now an “elder” – with connotations of experience & wisdom. Some days I relate to both those terms. This post is about times when I don’t.

I have been sharing this experience recently with my friend Dan, who has a 500 tree apple orchard. Although Dan is about a decade younger, we both note that the longer we live, the less we know for sure. Here is the crux: after decades of experience – when we thought we would be experts in our field, we find there are very few things that are always true.

So what’s the problem? First off, we appreciate how much we do know: we no longer have the angst of being new to the basics: soil fertility, plant growth, etc; but even those are incredibly complicated and what seems obvious one year is totally contraindicated the next (or several years later). It doesn’t seem fair: really, I was paying attention to the weather, the health of the plants/crops, and nurtured them the best I could – yet the outcome was totally different; eg, usually, the sorghum we grow from transplants is healthier and more productive than the ones we direct seed in the field, but in 2010 – it was exactly the opposite. So what is the lesson here? That really I don’t know – after all? Humbleness? OK, I got it.

Another prime example is my experience with honey bees – see next post (forthcoming).

In the agricultural life, every season is special & unique. Spring is a time of new beginnings – nature wakes up from resting during the winter and we humans get excited by swelling buds on the trees, new shoots of grass, crocuses flowering, etc.(at Sandhill, it heralds the beginning of the maple sap season – usually mid February),

It’s amazing how easily we take the seasons for granted – it’s simply the natural flow of life. However, the last three years we have had incredibly wet springs with below normal temperatures – making it very challenging to get crops planted in the fields and even in our gardens. I noted that last year, it was hard to be excited by spring – the constant waiting became depressing. In short, spring was mostly not joyous.

This year we are having a more normal spring: average temperatures and rainfall which means that so far we have been planting crops in a timely fashion. It is still too early to be planting most of our field crops but we are on schedule in planting the vegetable crops. This year we started a new venture – planting produce to sell on a larger scale and that planting is in the normal range. Our peach, cherry, and pear trees are in full bloom; the apricots are finished, and the apples are just beginning.

t is noteworthy how uplifting I find this situation. Perhaps I had not fully realized how much the cold/wet springs had affected me – although I do remember us talking about it last year. In my role as an organic inspector, I had also noted that I had never seen organic farmers more depressed about the weather preventing them from timely planting of annual crops.

I note that this is still early in the season – hopefully, I am not jinxing us by writing about it; in fact yesterday & today it is rainy and cold.

BUT – at this time, we feel uplifted by having a “normal” spring. I am not taking it for granted – I am celebrating and once again, joyous for this season!

I blogged about my Vipassana experience 2 years ago – this is an update.

For the first year I meditate for about 30 to 45 minutes daily – in the morning (it is the only time I can meditate – after that, the inner dialog is too distracting). Gradually I skip some mornings  and meditate for shorter periods of time: I am wondering if my practice will peter out and die? Then, last summer I am going through some health challenges – GI issues. It occurs to me that in my meditation practice (which includes a body scan to feel the energy in various parts of the body), I should be able to detect where/what the problem in my GI tract is. With this as a focus during my meditation, I sense that my colon is blocked in a particular place. I massage the area – which feels good but does not alleviate the symptoms. My doctor is recommending a colonoscopy; I decide to go ahead with it and indeed, he finds an obstruction. To explore the nature of the obstruction, a MRI is recommended – I go ahead with it and the MRI confirms it: the guess is that my colon is twisted or otherwise blocked. Is it the same area I identified during my meditation? It’s not conclusive, but my gut (ha!) feeling is that I identified the area/obstruction correctly; however, I am now on the western medicine tract and a barium enema is next. Surprisingly, it indicates no obstructions – now the guess is that the enema straightened out the obstruction. My GI tract improves – although very slowly.

This is where it all comes together – right? Nope, it’ a work in progress – or I could say that my spiritual practice is constantly evolving. Some concluding thoughts:

I am as eclectic as ever. I am in awe of all the life forms and spirits that contribute to agriculture (& life) on our farm. I wish I could more actively communicate with the plants and spirits – mostly, I try to listen. When the weather feels unfriendly, it is challenging. I find it difficult to feel in synch with spirit when instead of experiencing abundance from nature, we have to fight for what we get.

Spirituality: when I came to the communities movement in the late 1970s, the word “spiritual” was not a welcome word. We were still rebelling against religion and to us, spiritual described groups that had an exalted or charismatic leader (eg ashrams). We were egalitarian and distrusted leaders of any kind; however, I have always been drawn to spiritual experiences – I gradually reclaimed that word for myself and declared myself to be spiritual – but not religious.

Wu-wu – a word/concept some folks use to refer to some of the ideas I am expressing here. In my experience, people use it to refer to: the spirit/non physical world, issues they feel uncomfortable with and/or can’t be proved. It is often used dismissively as in “that’s too wuwu for me”. I am actually proud of my wuwu-ness. Simply put, I’d rather not limit myself to the physical realm – some of my greatest experiences are in the wuwu field. I welcome more wuwu in my life.

With reference to where I started this topic: re spirit in agriculture or spirits out there –  I note that currently most of my activity relates to spirit/energy in farming – I am less active in trying to contact nature spirits.

At Sandhill, I keep searching for my path. I yearn to create my own way of interacting with spirit – but the models I know about are from traditional societies, they are not from my culture. People in my circle here are in tune with there being spirit/energies in agriculture – often expressed as: please have good thoughts and vibes when working in the garden and no tobacco smoking around our food. We put positive energy into growing our food, preserving it, cooking & eating it. We hold hands in a circle before dinner to appreciate/celebrate the energy that went into the food that we are about to eat.

I work mostly with field crops – using a tractor and equipment – on a very small scale; we grow our own grains, beans, and some crops to sell – eg sorghum. I take to heart the old adage: “the best fertilizer is the footprint of the farmer” which I take to mean being in touch with the soil and plants. It is easy to relate to putting good energy into growing crops – but what about nature spirits taking care of plants? I believe they are there – but how to communicate?

My searching leads me to an Acres conference, where non physical energies in farming are generally acknowledged – but how do they work? How to augment/increase the positive energy? I recall one presenter at the conference describing his experience of communicating via non physical channels – it inspires me to try something similar. While planting that year’s sorghum crop, I concentrate really hard on sending my positive vibes into the seeds as they go into the ground. When I finish the field, I realize that the mechanism on one of the two row planter was plugged – no seeds were actually planted in that row. I ended up replanting most of the field; the lesson I take from this is that good vibes (no matter how strong) do not replace common sense and keeping machinery functioning properly.

I spend the next 9 years in academia and left wing politics; gradually, I grow tired of all the head/mental stuff – not enough physical, heart, and/or spirit. I’m also in a small radical action group: again, it’s all head. Two of us in the group decide to experiment with trying to live our politics/values in daily life – we leave academia to establish a commune – in Guatemala.  There I read The Magic of Findhorn and it blows my paradigm apart: what? nature spirits taking care of trees, plants, etc? My African memories come back – I remember how folks communed with spirits constantly.

Here in the rainforest of Guatemala, I live in the midst of trees: I talk to them and hug them. I try to feel the presence of nature spirits and sometimes I do – how to describe it? a sense of an other, a sacredness. Then I realize that I’m going through a paradigm shift:  I feel fundamentally different about the natural world – it is so much more complex than I ever imagined. There are all these physical life forms: bacteria & fungi, earthworms, mammals, etc. and then the spirits. How do they interact? What is my place in all this?

I read about paganism: how we humans have interacted with the spirit world through the ages and in various cultures. I now see fairies in a new light – perhaps they are real after all; and I remember the shamans in Africa – the intermediaries between humans and spirits. And I remember that FEELING – that in some way I was connecting to my primal roots.

So how do I manifest this new way of seeing the world? I now believe in spirits – so what? What has changed? I want some physical manifestation of how I am different. I vacillate: some days I feel it’s all in my head; at other times, I’m blissed out by my new understanding of reality.

Part 1

By spirit I refer to the non physical: thoughts, prayers, forces, energies, etc – but is spirit inside or outside? singular or plural? To illustrate: does spirit refer to: A) life force/energy in nature – eg Gaia (the notion that the earth is a living organism); and/or B) individual spirits – eg fairies and/or spirits that take care of trees, plants, rivers, etc? In my world, folks generally readily agree to A, but there is a wide divergence with reference to B.

A further clarification: there are different agricultural paradigms. The conventional one is the NPK approach (nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium), characterized by: an analysis of what nutrients a crop requires for optimal production, a soil test of what is already there, and then one can make up the difference with fertility inputs. It is a mechanistic/industrial model: inputs & outputs. In the sustainable/organic paradigm, agriculture is seen as a complex interaction among humans and various life forms – both physical and non. With reference to the above, this paradigm generally includes A – but not B.

I note that I am hesitant writing about spirit/spirituality (I’ve been working on this post for weeks – and have ambivalent feelings). I finally decide to write not analytically – but rather to share my experience with this topic. Here goes…

I grow up on a farm in a Mennonite community in Canada. In my Mennonite history class in high school, we are taught that our people have been and are innovative farmers – but there is no instruction of agricultural principles or practices. There is definitely no mention of spirit (except for the Holy Spirit – in church). It seems we are expected to absorb how to farm by doing the work – we have “chores” to do from an early age.

I have been in charge of growing field crops on our farm for 30 years – I have learned a few things; however, one aspect that constantly eludes me is predicting crop yields during the growing season. This year confirmed that.

Our 2010 wheat crop was the poorest ever; not in quantity, but in quality. The wheat kernels (berries) were shrivelled up and light – they weighed 49.5 lb/bu (normal is 60 lb. I’d never heard of wheat below 55 lb.) So what does that matter – since we grow it all for ourselves (and our chickens)? Technically, it doesn’t – we still use it to bake bread, etc. But I can’t help but feel that it does not have the vigor and nutrition of more normal/heavier wheat. I decided to buy wheat seed to plant next year’s crop because I feel seed vigor is important; however, the chickens are not complaining and we planted a lot of it for green manure crops.

Another big surprise was our sorghum crop. It is our signature crop: our main cash crop and what we are known for in the area. We put a lot of energy into producing and selling it; a good crop strokes my ego and reassures us that we really are farmers. We began raising sorghum transplants about 15 years ago and since then plant about half of our annual crop (6 acres) with transplants and the rest is direct seeded. Usually, the transplants yield considerably more per acre than the direct seeded and have fewer weeds; consequently, I have often been tempted to transplant all of it.

This is a question I am asked often these days (& years…). For most of this summer, my answers were ambiguous: well, they seem to be alright, but they sure are not making much honey, they are swarming a lot; in general, they seem to be holding their own, but not really kicking butt, y’know what I mean?

Then a raised eyebrow and “any CCD?” (colony collapse disorder). No, no, I reassure them; fortunately, we have not had that scenario.

We currently have 20 hives (including 2 top bar hives). We harvested a little honey a few weeks ago: the second consecutive year of lowest ever honey harvest – average of 1.5 gallons of honey per hive (our average had been 5 gal/hive). Then I got worried: maybe we took too much honey and did not leave them enough for winter (that happened last year).

BUT – here it is Oct 2 and y’know what? Our bees are doing fantastic! Better than they have all year (maybe 2-3 years…): they have good brood & populations, energy in the hives is focused, and they are bringing in honey & pollen. It is being a beautiful fall: finally, some dry weather, comfortable temperatures, and lots of wildflowers (as well as our planted buckwheat). The change in the hives is remarkable.

My current theory: we have not done any of the “chemicals” for 10 years and now we are off all “treatments” – even organic ones. We are also not bringing in queens from the outside. I figger the bees are coming back to their equilibrium in this environment – which is a mixed one: there are conventional crops within their flying range – but not very many; however, some of the symptoms we saw this summer were eerily similar to effects of exposure to pesticides. Yikes! That’s scary.

AND – I am reading an AWESOME BOOK: I highly recommend it:

It has been a long time since I have posted – one of the reasons is that it is being another very challenging year. This was the third consecutive very wet spring with the most rain and heavy rains I have seen in my 30 years here. When we planted crops in the fields, the heavy rains washed away a lot of the seed. The seed that remained often rotted before it could grow. We planted some of our sorghum and black beans three times – now they are very late. They will need good fall weather to mature.

This kind of weather is particularly difficult for organic farmers. Conventional farmers often no-till their seeds into the ground: they have a custom applicator spray an herbicide on the field and then plant with a no-till drill/planter and it’s done! Organic farmers rely on tillage to destroy weeds or green manure crops in preparation for planting. This means we need the soil to dry out enough to properly till the soil and kill weeds before planting. This year whenever we could work the ground, it usually rained again before we could plant. In that small window, conventional farmers planted their crops. When we finally did plant crops, we often had a heavy deluge – which made for erosion and poor germination. Then we could not get in the field to rotary hoe and cultivate – to control weeds; sometimes, the weeds took over the crops. (I now wish I had taken photos of several of our crop plantings that were so poor that we destroyed them and replanted; at the time, I found it so depressing that I did not remember how helpful photos can be).