Casey O’Neill is a farmer and owner of Happy Day Farms in Laytonville, Calif. The opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of The Mendocino Voice. If you’d like to write your own column for The Mendocino Voice, send your idea to info@mendovoice.com.
So ye sow, so shall ye reap; if you’re gonna sell vegetables all winter, you better plant like hell in fall. As bed space opens up, the pipeline of seedlings from the propagation house flows forth, tucking into cool, moist soil though the sun beats down. The heat and bird/bug pressure is hard on little plants, but we deploy insect netting followed by shade cloth on top to keep things cool and comfortable.
Each year I learn hard lessons about crop loss and the amount of work it takes to produce during the hot, dry months when all creatures great and small are hungry and looking for a tasty meal. I learn that taking the extra steps of covering with insect netting and shade cloth and hand-watering or overhead watering with sprinklers is worth the effort, so much better than coming back to check on a planting and finding it wiped out or shriveled in the sun.
Fall weather is variable here, but there is a virtual guarantee that there will be periods of heat that require significant irrigation to keep cool weather crops from stunting or being taken over by aphids. So far, our hard work is paying off with the first brassica reaching about 16” tall and the fourth planting almost a foot in height. They are mostly free of pests and damage; the insect netting has kept out the cabbage moths, and we have been lucky that the harlequin beetles have been much less of a problem this year.
As the years go by, I come to recognize the fluctuations in pest pressure, noticing that some populations bloom in certain years. I hypothesize all sorts of reasons based on weather in the winter and spring, summer conditions, moisture levels, etc., but in the end, I come to recognize that I know very little. To farm is to be beholden to the vicissitudes of nature, to fly each season in the face of reason and rationality to attempt again to scale the heights, to hope that the lessons learned will construct a scaffold to prop up my flimsy human hopes.
In the best of times, I work with nature and thrive, while in the worst of times I find myself at cross-purposes, dreams dashed on the rocks by the pulsing current of forces far beyond my control. The tears I have wept over the years are only counterbalanced by the lessons learned, by faith in my ability to try again, to do better, to overcome. As I behold the pink sunrise, the beauty of it all, I am renewed, given succor and awakened to the deep joy of the challenge.
Despite the hectic harvest season, I am doing better with fall plantings than ever before, in no small part due to help from my friends in each step of the process to sow, plant, water and tend. An aggressive seeding schedule sowing trays of greens, salads, scallions, root crops and heading brassica every 7-10 days all through the summer and early fall is paying off, and the propagation house is bulging with fresh, vibrant growth. In a time when summer crops are still producing but looking much the worse for wear, the freshness of the incoming phalanx lightens my soul.
Something about knowing that I have starts ready to go adds even more excitement to the cannabis harvest. The impetus to get the stumps out and cleared so I can replant accentuates the culmination of one season of work with the beginnings of the next. These interwoven cycles of life on the farm keep me from sinking into the downbeat, reminding me that life springs anew from death and decay.
Having lots of starts available helps with the hurt of crop loss. After poor carrot germination I planted cabbage and broccoli, and when birds ate a quarter of two plantings of lettuce starts I replanted with the next set and covered the beds with netting to prevent future incursions. I’m learning more and more that it’s best just to make the effort to cover each bed, though I’ll soon have deployed all the netting I have and will need to scrape up enough money to order more.
This week we slaughtered the last of the meat birds for the year, and I’ve had much reflection about the meals and comfort they will provide to our family and community through the winter months. With birds finished on the pasture, I’m beginning to reset the grazing lanes, and yesterday morning the sheep were delighted to be back on green forage. Ms. Piggy is grazing her way around the pasture and getting enough exercise to slim down some, and the piglets are content under their shade tree munching on hay, alfalfa and summer squash.
Fall has begun, and with it the heavy workload and early mornings of harvest time. The scent of cannabis is strong in my nostrils as I walk out my front door in the morning, bringing me joy and hope. The frenetic energy and excitement have arrived after the interminable wait, and I rush headlong into the fray. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!