A Week of Destruction
A family of goldfinches lost their home in the sunflowers when Justin mowed. One young poisonous snake has been confined to a plastic box filled with organic twigs and grasses. Justin and Stephanie may or may not have killed a field mouse while planting lettuce. The tractor broke. Nobody was at fault. I squarshed (sic) swallowtail caterpillars because they had infested the parsley, and then I learned from some normative and home-gardener-heavy blog that one should give up the parsley and enjoy cream of butterflies, and I thought about feeling bad, but decided against it on grounds that I am a cook, not Vladimir Nabokov. A toppling weekend rain floored half a dozen sunchokes. The collapsed from the roots like hurricaned oaks. I cannot describe to you how much rain. Because the rain knocked over the gauge. John Ashley returned to theology school. Paige and Justin left for the weekend to camp and spend time with friends, so Natalie and I farmed alone. Things have fallen apart. This week on the farm, a great violence has been done to diversity.
Yet loss welcomes gain. We enjoyed a record day of harvest on Monday afternoon (nearly 1500 pounds of watermelon and X pounds of tomatoes providing the bulk of that figure and seven pounds of radish tops rounding it off). Young winter cover crops just sprouted in the old sunflowers, and an ethnically diverse family of waterfowl come daily from the okra beds to mooch a meal. Natalie and I named the ducks Shrimp and Gumbo. The geese are too ornery to name and have shown a strong distaste toward Justin and the farm truck. The slow and soaking rain brought on excellent growth around the farm. Bill came twice to repair the tractor and is working hard toward that end. We cannot have John Ashley for a while, but we did enjoy a new volunteer, Tara. She moved to Palmetto recently, does work with stream conservation, and would like to learn more about organic farming. We are happy to have her join us.
Education Time: Soil Fertility "The main problem of permanent fertility is simple. It consists, in a word, in making sure that every essential element of plant food is continuously provided to meet the needs of maximum crops; and of course any elements which are not so provided by nature must be provided by man." -- Cyril Hopkins
Farmers use soil tests in order to identify the nutrients available to plants in a specific sites and to ensure that manure and soil amendments meet the nutrient needs of crops being produced in this area without causing excess nutrient buildup in the environment. Basically, submitting a soil test is sending your farm to the doctor for its annual checkup.
Most farmers use one of two fundamental styles of tests. The first, university soil testing laboratories, looks for sufficient level of nutrients. The second, alternative soil testing services, looks for a certain ratio of nutrients as well as biological properties, active organic matter and humus. Some farmers prefer the university tests that offer a black and white answer to fertility. Most organic farmers strive for more than just N-P-K-Lime fertilizer recommendations because they consider extra information helpful in assessing a biologically active soil. We practice the latter.
Like many of history's great debates, the soil test methodology debate turns out to masquerade as a great theoretical polemic, but in fact may be nothing more than a practical economic choice. I first considered this possibility after I attended a lecture delivered by Julia Gaskin, a soil scientist at UGA. She made two strong cases against Albrecht and his balanced soil nutrition method. First, it costs more than the simpler sufficiency-based test on the front and back end. Balanced soil tests cost more to run, and they almost always suggest adding expensive inputs from commonplace rock phosphates to the more exotic kelp or Norwegian fish oils. Needless to say, complying with all recommendations can get expensive. Second, the research done by Albrecht did not support his conclusions. No appreciable difference in crop yield and quality was noticed between BB and SB soils. Julia has taken the more frugal, more scientific approach. And yet many, us included, still use alternative testing services that cost more for their air of mysticism. So is the marginal cost worth the probable results?
Maybe. Few can deny the importance of biologically active soil, and organic matter is the fuel that makes all soil processes work. One looks at the contemporary agricultural crisis in India and the antique but not forgotten destruction to Southern soils to understand that irresponsible land stewardship is probably not in the earth's best interest. I say "probably" because I cannot say for sure and nod to a few liberal scientists such as Freeman Dyson who believe that the human imagination can invent technologies powerful enough to overcome any predicament. Carbon-eating trees and termites that consume rusty cars, for example, and by inference the health of world agriculture. Dyson has a great faith in the human intellect, a faith representative of the high and bittersweet taste of science. Our minds allow for great progress, but also great destruction. Proponents of sustainable agriculture take fewer latitudes and suggest that humans have begun to deplete natural resources faster than they can invent methods to mitigate the resulting harmful effects. The marginal effects vs. realized returns question frames the story of sustainable agriculture, which depends on one's faith in the unknown. Albrecht's research has inspired many nutrition experts, notably Weston Price (http://www.westonaprice.org/), to value the unidentifiable yet healthful properties of food
In the history of world debates, soil testing rates in popularity a few notches below, say, the existence of God or the value of prescriptive linguistics to the modern democratic spirit. Still, it remains a popular subject to discuss among interested agricultural scholars and farmers because it leads to greater discussion about the importance of our agricultural practices. Today, I humbly present the case to you as a sort of curious topic for dinner-table chat. You might not find any answers to this food, for I surely have not, but you will find it delicious.
Take care,
Brandon
