Rest, Part II: Application

This article first appeared in the Leader Vindicator newspaper.

Last week we concluded our discussion with two critical realities extracted from a study of Native American lifestyle: First, it is not a crime against nature to utilize natural resources for the betterment of humanity.  Second, nature will replenish exhausted resources if provided ample rest to do so.  American Indians, by adhering to these natural laws, existed in an environment that met the needs of the people and overflowed with natural abundance.

Employing these takeaways on our farm has become a keen interest of mine.  Unlike the Natives, we are banned the option of conflagrating an adjoining 500 acres of land when we discover our own property to be lacking in productive fertility and other resources.  A property border, however, does not eliminate the opportunity to migrate, nor do the confines prevent us from accessing the freely replenished bounties of nature.  It is quite possible to leverage the work/rest cycle of a nomadic lifestyle on limited acreage to create a more productive farm in the process.

We are incorporating a work/rest cycle into three broad categories: grassland, crop land, and forest.

Grassland:

One of the many characteristics that make our farm unique is the fact that our Grassfed herd of cattle stays OUT of a pasture much longer than they are in it.  Paradoxically, the most important fence I build to ensure our cattle stay full is the back fence, a barrier that prevents cattle from returning to grazed paddocks and eating young shoots. 

Restricting the herd’s pasture access enables grazed forage to recover and ensures the resource will be available in abundance throughout the year.  Day-to-day action centers on the animals, but the expanse of empty meadows is where the real work takes place.  The system functions effectively: Every single day our animals consume the best grass possible, and every single day our grass resource is protected from grazing animals.  It’s like having a brand-new farm each morning, but we never have to leave.  Such natural abundance is only possible by deliberately adhering to a work/rest management cycle.

Crop Land:

My friend Keaton is willing to accept the challenge of creating ‘nomadic’ grain production.  Together we are designing a landscape that acknowledges and negates the inadequacies of simple cropping methods.  His grain crops will ‘migrate’ around various properties, followed immediately by several years of perennial sod.

It is common knowledge to grain farmers that grassland soil is the best soil, yet few have any use for grass.  Here, again, is where migrating cattle become effective: they add value to grass grown in association with grain crops.  The transient nature of our grassfed cattle enables me to strategically utilize sod wherever and whenever it’s available, a characteristic that perfectly complements Keaton’s shifting fields of grain.

Our objective is to create a cropping system that is primarily devoid of crops.  By utilizing this tactic, the land under our care will be extensively rested, worked only briefly by periodic cropping exercise.  Such deliberate exclusion enables us to build soil and fertility year after year instead depleting the resources via unregulated use.  The greatest tragedy of modern crop production is the removal of livestock from the system; today, we are positioned to recombine the two into a much stronger whole.

Forest:

I walk through the woods on our farm and observe a far less productive environment than anywhere else on the property: Healthy trees are choked and tangled by broken, diseased neighbors.  Scrub brush, fallen limbs, and dead, rotting trunks severely limit mobility through the woods.  Not much is happening because there isn’t room for anything to happen.  Exercise will help our tree covered ecosystems wake up and abound in new, productive life again. 

As evidenced by the fires consuming expensive homes out west, when people stagnate the land by banning livestock and forestry, nature will employ severe tactics to clear away accumulated biomass and make way for new growth.  Conversely, we can proactively and profitably encourage new growth using careful planning, livestock, and a chain saw. 

During the heat of summer I select and expose a portion of shaded woods to cattle.  The animals spend their leisure time smashing away thick underbrush.  When they leave, I can easily traverse the thinned stand and cut unwanted vegetation, thus redesigning the woods into an open-concept environment filled with only the most vigorous specimens.  We’re expanding the productive acres on our farm without depleting a valuable timber resource.  The key, as always, is to prevent permanent damage by restricting access to the timber and ensuring the ecosystem fully recovers before additional use.

 Deliberate inactivity is like a secret weapon for farmers; it’s invisible until it’s understood, but once it is realized and utilized the tactic becomes so obvious that a farmer won’t know how he got along without it. This study has shifted my perspective from focusing strictly on saleable products to focusing strictly on the natural systems that create saleable products. My purpose on Earth is to influence the landscape so that, by default, it provides what my family needs to operate a business. Each season is a new opportunity to prompt work or provide respite; when the latter is required I am secure in the knowledge that another section of the farm is waiting to enter the game. I can’t wait to watch our ideas unfold into reality.