So as a friend put it as a response to my last article, some of you may have noticed that I have been a bit scarce lately. It is not my intention to remain so indefinitely, but sometimes in life it is important to disconnect from the world and connect to something higher in order to recharge ourselves. Or at least that is a more satisfying way of saying, 'hiding out on our farm because 30 feels old.'
A lot has changed in the last decade. I met my wife not quite 9 years ago. I dropped out, then went back to University and graduated. Friday was our 5 year wedding anniversary. The end of this year will be five years on the farm, and I quit cigarettes (for good!) last August. That seems like a lot of stuff, but there is even more that I want to do in my 30's, and many things, like permaculture documentation, that I wish I would have gotten further with in my 20's. But there is no going back now.
Recently, while hiding out, I have been documenting our latest break-through, what I like to call the 'sheep-slope tractor'.
This is a solution to a very difficult and complex problem, basically that the foliage grows too fast to even keep our small farm clean. We have relegated several sections of the farm to Zone 5, areas where we have declared no work to be done except by nature, but even then there is just too much farm to handle with a few small machetes.
Our first solution was a weed wacker, but on the steep slopes not only is it quite dangerous, but we have lost uncountable tree plantings due to the lowered precision of that tool over the machete. More common farm animals like cows and horses do too much damage to the steep slopes, although we have dealt with invading cattle on these slopes since the beginning.
Sheep, and one day llamas, have become our answer to these concerns. With great gusto they eat all manner of leafy weeds, grasses and vines that grow on our steep slope. I have been cataloging many different species of native herbs, flowers and bushes with my observations of what my helpers love to eat. I am still collecting great material, and planning to continue evolving and documenting this technique.
We received a friendly visitor who, as part of his continuing education, is providing rural education on dog care. We had a very fun time walking our dogs around the area and talking about human saftey with dogs. This includes popular modern day themes like germ theory, as well as behavorial techniques which can be very important in rural Colombia. In my experience, dogs here can be dangerous doorbells who's job is to discourage visitors; we were happy to hear what our friend had to say, and see his 'bagged pooper-scooper' technique!
Of course around the farm continues to grow and advance many of our previous plantings. Nature, and thus permaculture too, is a very four dimensional process. Everything that we have ever planted that hasn't been eaten by leaf-cutter ants or blown away by a weed wacker is still here, and growing. Sometimes the sight of something will surprise even us, the planters.
The main challenge with growing in the tropics is also the largest advantage. The speed at which native foliage grows is incredible, very hard to keep up with at larger scales. Exposed ground can be convered with several feet of dense growth in mere months, grasses are above the knee in two weeks or less. Every machete chop must be thought through, because I could machete the rest of my life and nearly never be able to claim that our farm is 'clean'.
In order to gain an advantage, we try to focus on subsections of the farm. We generally do not clear sections of the farm unless we are ready to actually plant something. We also leave native and planted overgrowth, large bushes and small and large trees, pruned in such a way to provide open space underneath their canopy. And when we prune, for space and light, we make mountains of organic matter that will eventually decompose and fertilize the area all on its own, but will keep grasses and other plants from growing underneath while they do so.
And when we get tired, for it is quite a lot of work to live so closely with such a viril version of mother nature, we take breaks to appreciate the wonder of what we are doing. And, though I do sometimes wonder how I got here, it is this wonder that makes it all worth it.