Let me immediately follow up that headline with the disclaimer that the farmer who said this is an incredibly talented producer and the words that follow are meant to reflect on the chaos of climatic conditions, not to knock their ability to deal with them, which I know they did. I'm looking at our local weather station data as I type this to make sure I get the numbers right and I keep double-taking at May and June. By the first of May, we were approaching a moisture deficit of nearly 5 inches - so much for April showers. By the end of June, we were actually still only at a surplus of less than half an inch. Doesn't seem that way does it? The intensity (here's looking at you hailstorms) and frequency (June had 19 days with measurable amounts of precipitation) makes it seem like more. And here we are in August, and after several more days of measurable precipitation so far, we're still at a slight deficit for the year compared to normal. That's how dry March and April were this year. Add in the long winter (it was dry and cold) and there was strange set-up to the 2023 season, inviting conditions that some younger farmers (me, included) possibly haven't encountered. So then, how exactly do you farm in weather you haven't encountered before? You'd collect a thousand different answers from a hundred different farmers is my guess - but there would also be a theme of adaptability and resilience threading through them all.
What if our increasingly wild weather is a reminder to engage in a type of production that has existed for millions of years but just needed the hard shovel to hit us upside the head (so to speak). What if growing iris, or cut flowers, or sugar snap peas, or kohlrabi became a byproduct of ecological restoration and subsequent regeneration? If you came to the farm this year, you undoubtedly were confronted with a landscape that looked a little wild, had taken on a more naturalistic tone, probably walked amongst the 'weeds'. Let's ask ourselves a different question though...what does this land that encompasses Long's Gardens and the majority of Colorado's Front Range want to be? It's a pivot that can take getting used to - humans are individually and societally accustomed to doing what we want, when we want it. But all it took was some quirky precipitation patterns and an (admitted) inability to keep up with some management aspects for the land to do exactly what it wanted - return to a shortgrass prairie dominated ecology. Make no mistake - our beloved hometown wants to foster the diverse ecology of a buffer zone between mountains and prairie. That doesn't mean we should all pack up and leave, but to start, perhaps we can consider that when a pasture insists on returning to a pasture, maybe we shift our management to let it? Just hold on while I rescue about ten thousand iris plants first, please.
All of this is to acknowledge the struggle of cultivated production in an ecological system striving to return to its most abundant form. Cool season perennial grasses (although introduced) are currently standing in the 5-7ft range in the most undisturbed areas. (Our goats fell behind their grazing duties in a big way.) We're not complaining about the amount of moisture that has hit our twenty-five acres as you'd be hard pressed to find a drop of that rain or hail that our almost entirely covered soil didn't drink happily and put into green vegetative growth. I personally am not even complaining about the weeds because it's a simple reminder that I've chosen to grow perennial plants in an unforgiving environment that is more naturally attuned to growing grass. We're not going to stop growing iris, or introducing pollinator habitat, or planting hedgerows for wildlife and windbreak as these human amendments to a landscape generally considered to be bordering on a desert some years (in terms of rainfall) all help in trapping desperately needed moisture. But perhaps more often, and occasionally at risk of Nature dominating the landscape (it is hers to begin with, right?), we'll take a step back and listen and remember and adapt around what this landscape wants to be. |
