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 issue of how to transition responsibility/management to newer members has a lot of challenges. My personal experience: I have been managing field crops (wheat, oats, sorghum, beans, popcorn, field corn, green manure crops), honey bees, sorghum processing (this is our signature crop), other food processing for sale (condiments), organic certification, equipment maintenance (including chain saws, plumbing, vehicles, tractors, flour mills, wood stoves), and marketing. I figgered that when I did pass on these managerial areas it would be to several people and that the hardest one to pass on would be farming (field crops). A saying I came up with: it takes a long time to grow a farmer… we’ve had some very good folks becoming farmers: Grady, Dianne, Jules, Jonathon. And now there is Mica – she appears has a knack for it: a combination of intuition, attention to detail, a basic sense of mechanics, and excellent problem solving skills. She is well on the way to taking on management of field crops, honey bees, and a lot of the maintenance. As an example: the combine is the most complicated piece of farm equipment that we operate (to harvest all of our grain & cover crops ). I always made sure that I was on the farm whenever we needed to use the combine – until this last summer. The wheat harvest was early – so Mica did it all. We talked on the phone a few times, but in the end, she “got it”. She did all the adjustments and harvesting – yahoo!! And – on her end: I’m sure she feels a tremendous sense of empowerment in knowing she can do it. As she puts it, I learn the most when you are gone.

Joe helps Mica with a lot of the farm work. They share doing most of the maintenance work. Similarly, Mica is managing most of the bee work: I still love to go out and visit the bees whenever I am at home during the season (& give my input), but in the end, she now does most of the managing.

Other areas:
the garden is an important component of sandhill: we depend on the gardens for most of our own food, our interns come mostly to learn about growing and preserving food (canning, freezing, drying, as well as growing extra produce to sell and/or process into products for sale). The gardens are also a symbol/signature for the farm: we try to be a model of sustainable agriculture: encompassing growing our own food and to sell to make a living. At this time, most of our sales come from processed foods: sorghum, honey, mustard; however, our produce sales have been climbing steadily in the last few years.
bottom line: this last year, the garden management was shared by Trish, Sara, & Jon – all relatively new members. Garden management has transitioned to the next generation.

Finances & accounting is now managed by Mica & Trish – another smooth transition.
Maple syrup: we do not sell maple syrup; it is for our own consumption and we also boil down the sap for our neighbors – dancing rabbit & redearth farms. This year, Joe took it on and fully managed it.

Firewood: we burn a lot of firewood. We heat three different residences with it and use a lot to cook sorghum & maple. Mica came to Sandhill from Twin Oaks in VA; there, she was a member of the forestry crew – main function was to provide firewood for the community. Mica is now managing forestry (firewood) at sandhill. In a sense, forestry feels like a more encompassing term than firewood: the former connotes managing the woods ecosystem for health and contributing to the farm whereas the latter is more the desired product of the former. In my experience here, what we actually do out in the woods is the same; however, I also value having the paradigm of healthy management, sustainability, yadda yadda yadda.

Aha. Sounds like paradise, eh? I am describing success after success & smooth sailing.
And honestly, for the most part, it is/has been.
Now, for a current wrinkle: I am the old man at the commune (I’m 67). In all this transition, I am also transitioning out of a lot of the manual labor; however, this last winter, all of the other members had various body issues: back, shoulder, arm, etc. In the end, who felt totally comfortable running the chainsaw this winter? You guessed it! the old man. I feel totally blessed that I am able to contribute in a very physical way & that my body is totally up to it! hallelujah!

Another personal note:
In all this transition, what do I do now? For decades, I spent my time/energy on the farm; and now? The less work I do on the farm, the more I do off the farm: namely, organic inspections. I am spending a lot of road time on inspections and when I am at home, I am often in my room/office doing inspection reports, making plans for the next inspection trip, etc. Currently, it suits me well: I get to be with farmers a lot of the time and still keep my pulse on our own farm/operation. The down side: it’s a lot of paperwork (actually, computer time).

In the last several years, an increasing amount of my time/energy has gone into my other life – as an organic inspector. Most of my inspections are farms (as opposed to processors), and so the winter months are much less busy (although I am amazed by how many farm inspections I am doing during the winter). This year, I finished all the inspections I had committed to and turned in my last reports on 12/31/12. What a relief! Then the next moment: what do I do now? For the last 8 months, my mind was preoccupied. What is happening on the farm? eg, do I need to remind Mica that something needs to be planted? cultivated? checked for weeds/bugs/etc? harvested? And/or inspections: communicating with several organic certifiers as to which inspections I need to be doing & when, and then, scheduling the inspections, doing them, and filing the reports… I have been doing it for more than 15 years and so I have a routine; however, I’ve also been doing a lot more the last few years (like 130 per year), and so it is more intense. I noted that inspections occupied my mind a LOT this year. When I was done, I felt a vacuum. Wait! This is what is supposed to happen every year – a time of rest. My current challenge: how to relax? I am used to being on my laptop a lot: checking email, weather, writing reports, etc. I am a creature of habit – I can’t stop.

Gradually, I transition: I help Mica cut firewood, read novels, watch movies (DVD), and hang out w/ friends. We have been ice skating and playing hockey a lot the last 3 weeks. I’ve even gone to several parties! I am gradually unwinding. It’s like I have to force myself to relax – even though I yearn for it. Contradiction? Perhaps, but emotions don’t mind contradictions.
Here’s to down time!

fast forward to Oct 6: our low temp was 29 F. We had been warned by NOA that a frost was likely and our garden folks harvested and/or covered sensitive crops. My big concern was our sorghum crop – it is our signature crop: our farm is noted for this crop and it is the largest income crop on our farm. 29 F is the temp when frost can severely damage the crop – or not; ie, sometimes it does, other times, it does not. what’s the difference? I don’t know. I have only been involved in growing/processing this crop for 33 years – what do I know? The old timers talk about how frost damage in crops is totally different depending on whether we are in the dark or the light of the moon. Other folks maintain that the critical factor is the dew point; frankly, in my experience, I have not been able to attribute either of those factors as a critical factor.
Back to Oct 6: the low temp was 29. I had a premonition the night before – this is going to be IT! We are going to get frosted. Mica, Joe, & I went out to the sorghum fields that morning to assess possible damage: we sampled sorghum plants already cut down & laying in the field, as well as crop that was still standing in the field. We crunched the stalks with our teeth: DEFINITELY FROZEN.
OK: so now what? (background: we could have harvested this field already – but decided to delay because the crop was not quite mature and we had another group of folks coming soon to help us with the rest of the harvest).
When the canes (sorghum stalks) are frozen, we usually have 4-6 days to harvest and process it – before it turns sour; it depends on the temps after the frost: as long as the temp is low, it is not a problem (imagine your basil freezing – if you put it in your refrigerator, it will be fine, it is the warm sun that will turn the leaves black).
So we have a pow-wow: we decide we need to cut down the sorghum crop in this field (it is our last major sorghum field) IMMEDIATELY – like today! (This is a major endeavor: because it means that we will harvest the canes with the leaves on instead of stripping the leaves off – that would take too long) – and we get it done!
next issue: the leaves on the plants are still green: we don’t like to process canes w/ green leaves (green leaves supposedly impart a bitter taste to the syrup – who wants bitter in a sweet syrup??). BUT we better get it while we can! so we do. the whole field gets cut down.
Re processing: we still have the last field that was harvested in our regular way (leaves stripped off & the canes left in the field about 5 days – to promote “drying”: evaporation of water and enzymes in the plant converting starches to sugars, after the stalk is cut).
We process that cane: squeezing the juice out of the stalks and then cooking/evaporating the water out to make a thick syrup – in days. Then we note that the canes we thought had been frosted showed no frost damage… what?? Since the plants were still immature when we cut them down, we decide to wait to process them – 2 days. Now we process them and they are fine.

Bottom line: did the sorghum get frosted? or not? I am not sure – even though I have been watching/managing this process for 33 years.

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 community, we call it woo woo. We want more woo woo in our lives (my personal definition of woo woo: spirit/energy/soul – not explainable by traditional science/reasoning; it is part intuition, partly the hunger we feel for an overarching meaning to life – more than feeding ourselves, procreating, etc).

So where is the woo woo in national politics? the tea party? rush sourbaugh? the green party? As far as I can tell – no one wants to discuss it: it’s like the McCarthy era of the 1960s in the sense that talk about spirituality outside of the church and traditional religion is like labeling someone a communist. (Just yesterday, I caught the end of a debate between the Libertarian and the Green Party candidate on NPR – neither came anywhere near this issue.)

So where do we go from here?
Personally, I try to stay “centered”: i conceive myself as a spiritual being – beyond the daily vicissitudes of politics, weather, relationships, etc. My ideal is to increase positive universal energy (is that too woo woo?). how does that manifest? ideally, I meet/engage each person in my daily life w/ my best self: I appreciate their contribution to life, society, and acknowledge it (eg, positive feedback).

how does this relate to politics in an election year? as I listen to news on NPR, i feel myself disengaging with the issues that the pollsters feel are the relevant ones. In that state of mind, i easily go to a negative place: what’s the use anyway? BUT I am an optimistic person by nature, and so I fantasize about a situation where one of the presidential candidates or parties would actually dare to embrace the vision/paradigm that our natural world in which we live is sacred? that all life is sacred? And that this is fundamental in our species continuing to be a viable in the evolution of Gaia.

WOW! that would be such an awesome opportunity to engage in all kinds of discussions.
Oops, but then we would have to confront the issue of splitting the left votes in the presidential contest & risk voting in the crazed tea party. Relas: it seems i don’t have to worry about that scenario anytime soon…

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.

Another interesting tidbit: 2012 was the first year in my 30 years of beekeeping in MO that we had no bee swarms: ie. we did not see any of our hives swarming (we don’t always notice), nor did we have any calls from local folks about swarms. Usually, when bees are doing well, they swarm. Our bees did well this year – so what’s up with that??

Back to my last post: i mentioned the new class of systemic seed treatments on seeds used in conventional (chemical) agriculture. I did not name them – it seemed obscure; however, more research has been done & published . This class of these seed treatments are known as neonicotinoids, which disrupt the nervous systems of insects. Among the neonicotinoids, the imidacloprids are a common seed treatment, although, various other names are used; I confess I do not understand the relationship among all of these names/classes/whatever (& maybe I don’t even want to).

When I became aware of the neonicotinoid effects and the fact that conventional corn seed treatment is treated with these, I realized that many of the symptoms we had observing in our bees the last few years matched what other beekeepers were attributing to these seed treatments: eg, slow buildup in the spring, queen failure, etc. I realized that if my neighbors are planting this kind of treated corn seed, that would explain our recent bee problems. So I went to our neighbor and asked to see their corn seed tag – it named various seed treatments. I had to go on the internet to determine that yes, indeed, one of the seed treatment was an imidacloprid (neonicotinoid). I told them of my suspicions re their corn crop negatively affecting our honey bees. I had to explain the theory and that the evidence is not conclusive – but my best guess. They were empathetic; so I ask: “If I can find a corn seed that is not treated with this class of chemicals, would you plant that instead?” (they already know that we are organic). They agreed.

I was ecstatic! This could really help our bees. Then I called the local seed dealers to determine the seed treatments on the corn seed they had for sale (none of them knew anything about neonicotinoids or imidacloprids). However, going to the internet, I noted that ALL the seed treatments included these chemicals (under various names). BUMMER! The only alternative was to get totally untreated corn seed. I knew that was not an option they would consider and so did not request it.

So nothing has changed: they still plant the corn seed and it is within range of our bees. We try to plant crops on our land that will entice our bees to stay at “home” (I imagine our definition of home and theirs is different), eg. buckwheat in mid-summer when the conventional corn is pollinating. But I suspect our bees are still getting pollen from our neighbors’ corn.  So what is different this year? I have no idea; was last fall/winter/this year an aberration? an exception? or is it a trend – could our bees be tuning in to the danger of the neighbors’ corn pollen? After all, living critters adapt to their environment.

Following that train of thought: we are no longer purchasing queens. The conventional wisdom is that beekeepers should purchase queens from queen bee breeders – to keep the gene pool varied and/or buy queens that have been bred for mite resistance. We have done that. It seemed to work – for awhile. But those genetic traits appear to be recessive – ie. they diminish and disappear in a few years. An alternative paradigm: left to themselves, the bees breed and raise their own queens that eventually are more tuned into local environmental conditions (maybe even reject the toxic corn pollen?) A trade off may be that the bees won’t make as much honey (queen breeders select for high honey production). Is it worth it? short term? long term? what is short/long term? Stay tuned….

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?

* It was interesting for me to watch our gardeners: due to the very warm March weather, they wanted to get everything going early – but hesitated because we all wondered whether to trust the apparently early spring. Anyway, they did get a lot of the beds prepared and many crops planted early. The cool rainy April has not adversely affected these crops. However, we did have an aphid problem – especially with the seedlings in the greenhouse. The aphids were bad enough that we actually purchased some lady bugs through the mail – first time in my 32 years here. (Although I remember that some 20-30 years ago, I had to replant several fields of sorghum due to aphid pressure. The local county extension agent explained to me that the lady bugs migrate up this way in May-June from the southwest – so when I replanted the crop and the plants were big enough to attract the aphids, the lady bugs had arrived as well and a healthy balance was established).

* bees. We have 20 bee hives – they loved this last winter; it was mild with enough warm days for them to fly out of the hive to “eliminate”. Further, the early spring suited them just fine: they got pollen from the early flowering trees, the queens laid eggs, and they flourished – ie, they built up populations in anticipation of honey flows. Then the weather changed – cooled off: it seemed that the bees were still in the GO GO GO energy cycle. They kept building up population and NOW: strangely, they are running out of honey. what? how did that happen? I called it “building up population” – the reason they build up population is to take advantage of the “honey flow” (usually mid-June to end of August). But that comes at a cost: it takes a lot of pollen, honey, and bee energy to raise more bees. For comparison, think of how much energy we humans put into our progeny: years and years of it. In a beehive, they increase their population from about a thousand in February/March to about 30,000 in July. Yikes! – it takes a lot of resources; in this case, that translates to honey & pollen. Early spring flowers are rich in pollen, not so much nectar. When we visited our bees last week, they had sufficient pollen, but some had very little honey. It bummed me out to the extent that a few days later, I poured some raw organic sugar into 4 hives – if they need to, they can convert the sugar to feed themselves and their brood.

*My psyche. Here I/we are: living the idyllic country life – hilly terrain, plenty of woods, wildflowers, etc all around. there is a certain “natural order” that we assume in our daily/yearly rhythms. BUT now it’s OFF! The cycle is a month early. WAIT – where am I? how did I get here? I had planned a month of slowing down/reading/contemplation/etc etc. Where did that time go? Does this mean the end times are even closer? (NOT!, I am a total skeptic of “end times” thinking….). You get it – it is disorienting for me/us….

*** Note: you may notice that I use I & we interchangeably and/or confusingly. It is because it is “I” that is writing; however, I am a member of a commune – I think that most of us in communes have at least 2 personalities: the individual & the group.

**** feedback welcome

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….

The frogs – western chorus frogs & spring peepers – have been serenading us for a week now. I try to imagine what it’s like for them: telling us all IT’S SPRING!, an awesome 24-7 party? an orgy? all of the above? I love their exuberance!

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!

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?

It is still too early to tell – why? Since we practice organic methods, we depend on good soil conditions for seed germination and weed control. In seasons of small windows, we are at a distinct disadvantage compared to our conventional neighbors; eg, in that last 3 day window, they finished all their planting: their seeds are treated with fungicides so that if the weather turns cool, the seeds will not rot and/or be picked apart by fungi. Further, they don’t have green manure crops and so what if there are still weeds in the field when they plant? They will be taken care of by an herbicide spray later. In our case, non-treated  seed germination depends on how wet and/or warm the soils are; eg. even though I planted the sorghum seed a week ago, and some plants have poked above the ground, I am still not sure that the germination will be consistent enough for a crop – or that the crop will not be totally swamped with weeds.

For me, small windows are  similar to niche markets: we often have to make snap decisions with little/no info to guide us. We don’t know until much later whether they were good decisions – depending on weather or changes in the marketplace. How to make these decisions? by the seat of your pants? consult your favorite oracle? prayer? At various times, I’ve done all of these. I have no definitive answers/results.

Small windows in agriculture make for stress. Oh well, I am trying to embrace small windows – I assume there is some kind of lesson to be learned here. Here’s to more lessons in life!

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.

The symptoms described by beekeepers due to #2 above match what we have been experiencing with our hives. I noted this a year ago – but then I could not imagine how seed treatments could influence the bees (see explanation in #2 above). According to the movie, The Vanishing of the Honey Bee, beekeepers in Europe first noted the connection between the new chemicals and effects on their bees and then put pressure on governments to the point where these systemic seed treatments have been banned in France, Germany, & Italy.

NOW:

forward to May 22:  I have a totally different assessment of our bees; for those of you who are beekeepers, this may not be surprising. The energy of a beehive can be totally different from week to week – depending on the queen, weather, nectar/pollen availability, etc. Now the hives are radically different – the bees are vibrant, alive, and bustling. The energy is palpably different – they are purposeful, busy, and hum with a contented sound.

What happened? It’s a wonderment. Some factors: some of the new queens were finally able to go on their mating flights (good weather) and the populations built up. It seems they need a critical mass to make it all work right. And there are a lot of flowers out now: cherry trees, black locust trees, clover, etc. They love being busy.

Part of it is the natural cycle of bees: at this time of year, there is lots of honey & pollen, queens lay thousands of eggs a day, thousands bees hatch every day: workers to gather nectar, pollen, feed brood, etc. more bees, etc etc. all to say, that this is the time of exploding bee populations when the mites simply can’t keep up (that happens later – in August, when the mite population catches up when the bees start sizing down, getting ready for winter.)

Today June 11: the bees continue to do well. We had the bees make some queens and we started new hives with those virgin queens. These queens have now mated and are heading up energetic new hives (all is right in the bee world – for now).

I am in love with the bees again.

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).

Fortunately, Dan and I also share a lively sense of humor. We laugh at ourselves: at how we – the experts – find ourselves guessing at what happened last year and what to do next. Further, laughing at ourselves is more fun when we do it together.

Sometimes, I feel frustrated that I don’t have more definitive answers when folks ask my opinion and about my experience; and yet, perhaps that is part of the wisdom: the absence of definitiveness when dealing with life – soil, plants, critters, etc. It also relates back to my earlier posts re Spirit in Agriculture: a reminder to celebrate the mystery in agriculture. Perhaps that is the wisdom.

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!

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.

Back to Vipassana: I now meditate regularly and currently, I miss only once or twice a week. Why the change? Is it because of all these medical procedures? It certainly appears to be a significant factor: the intense physical experience of the various medical procedures has made the body scanning of the Vipassana practice feel more relevant. On the other hand, it’s hard to sort out all the variables – eg, the mediation practice is such an integral part of my morning routine: I get up before anyone else does, make coffee, make a fire, empty the dish rack, then sit down to a cup of coffee in the dark – and FEEL myself: in the dark, with my brew, wake up to a new day, and then meditate. It feels so right.

I still wonder exactly what benefits I derive from my meditation and/or my morning routine. Why do I meditate more regularly some times than others? Mostly, I feel that something is lacking – when I don’t do the practice. But what exactly is it? I can’t really verbalize it.

I wonder whether I would be meditating now if I had not experienced the GI issues; in any case, I am happy to be back in my practice (and my GI tract feels much healthier).

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.

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 want be more active – to welcome and celebrate spirits in my farming practices. I try the biodynamic (BD) model: it appears close to embodying my ideals – and it comes complete with a practice. There is making the preparations, stirring them, and then applying them. I like the symbolism: each of the preparations (preps) consists of a vegetative matter (eg, dandelion flowers, oak bark, etc) inside an animal sheath (male deer bladder, cow horn, etc), which is then incubated (in shamanic terms – it is charged with energy/power). There is ritual: making the preps and stirring them in water – first in one direction until a deep vortex forms, then reversing directions, creating chaos until a new vortex forms – for a full hour. Then I spread it on the ground, on plants, or on a compost pile – depending on the individual prep.

Does it work? Some BD practitioners do experiments that indicate positive (even fantastic) results. I am not scientifically inclined: I make the preps and apply them – but I do not see dramatic results. To me, it’s like asking: does prayer work? It depends on your belief system. I do note that when I do the BD preps, I feel good – like I am doing something positive and raising the spiritual energy on the farm. And yet I have this nagging doubt – is this a personal head trip? Am I doing this for the earth & the spirits? Or for me? Does it matter?

Part of what I like about BD is the transformation of something physical to non physical: the matter (prep) is infused with energy/power (like a shaman charging an amulet). A quarter cup of prep is stirred in 3 gallons of water for an hour and is enough to treat an acre: this small amount of matter cannot possibly make a physical difference in the soil. Further, I like the BD way of looking at the farm as a living organism (similar to Gaia). It fosters a reverent attitude – that we are stewards of the earth.

However, my BD practice is still erratic: I rarely make any of the preps myself anymore – I buy them; I do some stirring and apply them every year – but not to all the crops. Is it laziness or not quite the right fit?

On a tangential note, in the early 1980s I start going to a regional mens gathering. I resonate with the spirituality I experience in the radical faerie culture here. In general, it is related to pagan/wiccan traditions, but then they adapt it to our current culture. We create our own rituals – our own experiences shape the way we relate to the divine, the mystical, and the spirit world. While this does not pertain to agriculture, it is my ideal model – to create my own symbols and ritual that express how I experience and communicate with the spirit(s) in agriculture.

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.

The commune we are attempting to establish in Guatemala is not coming together: we are lonely and decide to go back to the mother culture. I’ve been gone for three year – how will I fit in?

I decide to join Sandhill farm/community; it is close to my twin dreams: an agricultural base with a communal setting (although there are only 3 folks here). What about spirit? That seems a private/individual matter here – so I don’t talk about it. Another dilemma: at Sandhill, we farm with tractors and machinery – do/can spirits coexist with this technology?

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.

In school, I love reading to learn about different cultures and I do not expect to stay on the farm. I head for the city, but after 2 years in Mennonite Bible College, I am ready for something new. I go on a Junior Year Abroad program to the University of Nigeria in West Africa. One of my courses is on Traditional Religions of West Africa, taught by a Nigerian catholic priest. He takes us on trips to see witch doctors (now known as shamans – a good example of changing paradigms). Although I am very christian, I like these guys – they are colorful characters and respected in their villages. It dawns on me that they are the spiritual leaders in the community – a link between the physical and the spirit world. I note that everyone (even the christian students at the University) wear amulets, which have been charged with power by a shaman. While visiting students in their homes, I become aware that in this culture, spirits are very real – for example, they are given food and drink at the beginning of every meal. Fertility rituals, as in blessing the soil and crops, are performed every year – but what really impresses me is how spirits are an integral part of daily life.

When I return home, the memory fades – and so does my christian paradigm. I don’t know how to incorporate spirits into this paradigm. For the next decade, I flounder through a nihilistic phase…

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 year our transplanted acres yielded about 35 gallons syrup per acre and the direct seeded 100 gal/acre. This – in spite of the fact that some of the direct seeded was planted 3 times (due to heavy rains washing away the seed and/or the seed rotting) and so was very late. The transplants also had a hard life: it was unseasonably cold when we planted and so many did not germinate – instead of having 3 transplants every 2 feet, often there was only one. Then some plants died due to incessant rain after transplanting. All in all, it made for a low population in the field – which could have resulted in big vigorous plants but instead the shallow rooted plants (due to constant moisture) were blown over by wind. In contrast, the direct seeded plants were planted much later (usually a disadvantage but this year the weather turned warm and somewhat drier in mid summer – much better for the crops.) The late sorghum grew very well – but it was not mature when we harvested it and so the yield was lower than it could have been.

We grow dried beans for our own consumption. This year we planted black beans, pintos, reds, & tiger eye beans. Heavy rains washed away the seed and/or they rotted. We replanted all again – except red beans because we ran out of seed. The same thing happened again. Now we were out of tiger eye seeds as well. The black beans seemed to fare a little better than the others – so we kept a small portion of that crop and replanted a few pintos and mostly black beans. By now it was very late and the beans continued to struggle with the wet conditions but then finally grew in the summer heat – but they never got very big. I expected a poor yield. We harvested them yesterday: we got about 25 lb of pintos and 120 lb of black beans – much more than I expected.

Back to the unpredictability factor: if I had predicted yields at middle of growing season, I would have been way off – picking random numbers out of a hat would have been as accurate. I remember being amazed last year when an organic farmer I was inspecting showed me how they estimate corn yields: count the number of cobs per foot of row, measuring the size of the cobs, and then multiplying by ?(I can’t remember); apparently, it is fairly accurate.

Me – I suppose part of me enjoys being surprised – I like the mystery in agriculture (& life in general!). But when it comes to crop yield surprises: I admit I enjoy them more when they are abundant – rather than scarce. I had both this year.

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:

FRUITLESS FALL by Rowan Jacobsen, subtitle – The Collapse of the Honey Bee and the Coming Agricultural Crises. It reminds me of Michael Pollan’s writings: great explanations of how things work woven into the larger context. I am re-orienting how I think of bees.

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).

During my inspections of organic farms this spring and summer, I met a lot of discouraged organic farmers; a typical attitude was: “For most businesses, 3 bad years in a row means going out of business. This is our third consecutive year of poor crops and the worst one of all – I hope I survive.” Many had to replant crops – extra expense and usually less yields. Weed control was also difficult – it was too wet to get in the field to cultivate. It is humbling to have very weedy fields after having worked hard at weed management.

In general, in our part of the country, the corn crop looks poor, the soybeans look quite good, and there is abundant grass for pasture and hay – although the lack of dry weather has made haying challenging as well. The corn is poor – because of all the rain while it was being planted. Most beans are planted later – when there was slightly less rain and warmer weather.

Further: grain markets are discouraging for organic farmers (conventional farmers seem to be able to get by because they get a lot of government payments). For grain and row crop farmers, soybean prices continue to be good. Some crops (corn, wheat, oats, hay), the prices are low which means that the pressure and urge to plant as many fields to soybeans as possible is very strong. The organic certifiers are constantly reminding farmers that planting soybeans two years in a row is not a good organic rotation practice – and highly discouraged in the organic standards. Farmers, on the other hand, need to plant profitable crops to stay in business (ie. Soybeans). As an inspector, I am in the middle – I get it from both sides and empathize with both. Fortunately, I don’t have to make a decision as to whether they are complying with the organic standards – I report what is happening on the farm.

Now, it has finally dried out; in fact, a week or 2 ago, we wished for a rain – first time this year. And we got it!