Oh, How We Grow
The farm in August showing a diversity of crops.
How does our urban farm grow? Through trial and error with lots of note-taking. I have had many teachers along the way, whom span several species. I practice with evolving methods and try not to judge myself or others too harshly. Every farmer’s situation is different - our microclimates, personal and community needs, market realities… The following reflects some of my current farming practices.
I love a good broad fork to turn in the stubble of an overwintered cover crop.
We live in a world of plastic but I try to be thoughtful and sparing of it. How does the plastic of my greenhouse weigh against the fuel transporting food from warmer climes? Do the water-savings of drip irrigation make up for the plastic tubing it’s made of? How does one get bottom heat through wooden propagation trays? (One doesn’t.)
I take time to sit with the plants. I wait for their visitors. I sat with borage this week and saw honeybees and native bees, a crane fly, a lady bug, a black shield bug with red outline, and a spider.
Our seeds mostly come from small regional seed companies. Which regions? All of them!
I aim to grow a wide diversity of crops and to rotate those crops with careful planning to reduce insect and disease pressure.
I hunt slugs by flashlight and drown them in salt water. I imagine myself coming back as a slug in another life and I hope this death is fast.
Soil blocks are a really fun and efficient way to start seeds. We start a lot of our vegetables in a greenhouse to get a jumpstart on the season and to avoid some of the worst slug pressure. These seeds get put in small blocks of soil that we transplant directly - no plastic required. Check out Elliot Coleman’s books for more information.
I try to be respectful of my mother’s bed - mother earth and the garden bed, that is. I have great faith in the microbes, mycelia and arthropods to make good soil structure, and accordingly turn soil sparingly.
I’m not kidding about the hum of the substation across the street. I think it helps. So does the softer churnings of the mighty Willamette and McKenzie Rivers, each about a mile away. We are certainly in their historical floodplain and the soil is rich, dark and beautiful. Black is beautiful.
About that - black IS beautiful and black lives matter. I am learning how to be more aware of my racism, privilege and blind spots. This awareness influences my growing practices - it is a growing practice. Its a journey with no ending, and I’m very grateful to the teachers who have and continue to show me the way. I would like to be a good ancestor, and have a feeling that I’ll always be asking what that looks like.
