Editorial

Letter from Larksong      

A man’s interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.  —Henry David Thoreau 

            My interest this latter part of the winter has not been on a single bluebird but on about three or four that feed on a mixture of peanut butter and cornmeal by our kitchen window. Every day, regardless of the weather, the pleasant birds feed and sing, which adds to our viewing and listening enjoyment for the day.

            The silence of winter is broken not only by the songs of the bluebirds but by other birdsong—song sparrows, cardinals, and of course the buoyant Carolina wrens are adding their voices to the choir as spring edges northward at about 17 miles a day.

A friend said that he is ready for spring but not quite prepared for it yet. I could say the same. There were a number of winter projects I haven’t finished. One is a series of articles on starting farming sustainably and maintaining it. I had promised it for the Winter or Spring issue. I apologize, it is not ready yet. We do have a number of articles in this issue which fit that mold—grazing dairy in the east and beef in the west, properly preparing the soil and planting corn, neighborhood pasture walks, growing tomatoes in row tunnels, and more.

As Leroy Kuhns mentions in the Market Report, if this present farm situation of high grain prices continues we’ll be in for some interesting times. Should milk prices drop to $17.00 or lower per hundred-weight, many dairy farmers will be operating in the red. Corn and soybean prices are being driven by the demand for ethanol and bio-diesel, wheat prices are at record levels.

The livestock end of agriculture has for decades depended on an abundant supply of cheap grain and now that is changing. How it will all play out waits to be seen. One thing is certain, food prices will rise. In the broad field of divergent views on our energy and economic outlook, I’m probably closer to the prophets of economic turmoil then I am to the believers that shale oil, fuel cells, ethanol, bio-diesel, and the Goddess of Technology will provide and fuel another century of economic expansion.

I sense an ominous rumbling on the horizon that our addiction to economic growth is in peril and that it will force adjustments be made in the lifestyles of many people in this nation, outside of the nouveau riche and the truly destitute, in the next decade. First, food and clothing. For those not growing and producing most of their own food, buying local may become a necessity instead of a choice as the energy crisis translates into a consumer goods crisis. When the big box stores get clobbered by high transportation costs more shopping will be done at farmers’ markets, small neighborhood groceries, bulk food stores, and thrift stores.

We’ll rely more on family, friends, and neighbors. We’ll trade labor and food. Find out what you can get from them, and what you have to offer in return. Our rolled oats and honey for your hard winter wheat and maple syrup.  A great deal of this is already being done locally.

The way we travel will also be affected. More biking, walking, car pooling, and public transportation (if it’s available) will be done. We’ll do more traveling at home, which I prefer anyway. Whenever we farmers leave home for a few days there is always a lot of preparatory work—grinding feed enough for a week, making sure all the equipment is in tip-top shape; oil changed, belts tightened, pastures lined up—all to make it easier for the relief milkers. We can still do all this preparing and then…stay at home. A week’s holiday without travel costs. I’ve always wanted to do that.                                   DK