I’ve been doing a lot of gardening recently, probably more than at any other time of my life except when my spouse and I bought our first house nearly twenty years ago and thought we’d become avid gardeners like both of our mothers.
I was delighted to see that you recommended Charlotte Gill's book, Eating Dirt, in your post last week. And to learn that Sarah Boon recommended to you. This book seems to inspire that kind of behavior.
Several years ago, my friend Rick Simonson—he is the head buyer and readings coordinator for Elliott Bay Books in Seattle, so he knows where the best books are buried—walked up to me while I was browsing and said, "Here's a book you're really going to like." He handed me a copy of Eating Dirt, and I have been positively evangelical about it ever sense, pressing it into the hands of unsuspecting friends and dinner guests like some street-corner fanatic. It's such a smart, funny, clear-eyed and emotionally intelligent story about our well-meaning but disastrous attempts to improve what Mother Nature got right in the first place. Everyone should read it.
What a wonderful story! You're right, it seems to inspire that kind of behavior. Before I came home to this message (I don't have email on my phone anymore), I had recommended it to two different people, one a music teacher who recently lost a parent and was talking about gardening as part of the grieving process, and the other a local farmer. I feel like it's one of those books I might buy a pile of just to be able to give it to people. Last time I did that it was Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle."
Fascinating essay, as always! I never really thought about where soil comes from. Looking around, slowing down, pausing and thinking about things like this just makes me appreciate the wonder of it. Thank you, have a great weekend.
I hadn't either! My husband and I were just at the hardware store trying to figure out if we should buy some potting soil and it was weird to look at all those bags in a new way after even a bit of brief research. Also I'm surprised it's not in short supply like so many other things (lumber, appliances, etc.).
This essay has been living in my head since I first read it moments after it arrived in my inbox. I am the daughter of a farmer who has used very "conventional" methods for 50 years. I worry about that soil. And I worry about water so much, especially in this alarmingly dry year in the PNW. While I have avoided peat for the reasons you mention, I am embarrassed to admit that I have never truly thought about the idea of topsoil in bags obviously being stripped from elsewhere. I think I tended to think of it like compost, which is renewable. I am very grateful for our local compost program.
Don't be embarrassed! I never really thought about it either. We can't think of things until we think of them, can we?
My grandfather farmed conventionally until he sold his wheat ranch in the late 1990s. It's very hard to do it otherwise. One cool thing is that the couple who bought the ranch (very nice people) still farm conventionally, but have a son who took a section and has been doing organic kamut and lentil for about 15 years now. There aren't many like that but they're persistent and starting to make a bit of a difference.
Glad you have a few options -- that cow bedding sounds great. Coconut coir which can be purchased in compressed bricks that expand greatly with water is a great peat substitute. But the biggest issue is system-wide: reliance by hort-and agriculture on artificial chemical use which kills the micro-organisms in the soil, and the widespread practice of removing organic material from pretty much everywhere as waste and discarding it, when it needs to be returned to the soil to support soil life. This is why previous generations could grow such lush gardens and we can't. It does take persistence and time to repair the damage. I am struggling with clay soil in NC, in a yard that never knew anything but chemically supported maintenance. I can never make enough compost. I grow comfrey and clover; I purchase expensive, organic potting soil and grow some things in big containers with additional (purchased) steer manure and alfalfa -- and it just take time to heal the damage.
I think I'll try for the cow bedding. I kind of assumed they'd have too much demand but I never even asked, and I know their cows have pretty good lives (it's a farm you can visit in person any day) and it's only a few miles away.
You're right, though, that the problem is a systemic one (like so many others). When we visit my relatives' ranch in Eastern Montana, we drive through miles of wheat fields, all looking green and vibrant, but as a friend has pointed out repeatedly, most of that soil is dead from decades of trading between weedkillers/pesticides and fertilizers. Though there are some farmers in that area who shifted to organic, starting with lentils and kamut.
Reading your description made me realize I should actually be grateful for all the thistles and knapweed! Despite their being invasive and frustrating, at least it shows a lack of chemical weedkillers over the past few decades. Also, your comments remind me that spending a lifetime trying to bring damaged, neglected, abused soil back to health and well-being for its very own sake is not a bad thing.
Yes! And I think it is one of the kindest and most helpful things a person can do for planet and the rest of us humans. Plus which, it ends up addressing other grave problems, water shortages, biodiversity loss, and climate change -- all are helped by improving how we treat the soil around us.
Thistles, as I understand, are deep-rooted and so help to aerate the soil down where it is hard to penetrate. Knapweed, well, it does cover, LOL! but yes, anything growing is better than nothing at all, and if you can leave areas alone, there will be a succession that will lead to greater health....
So true! Biodiversity loss and erosion/water loss are things that keep me up at night.
Thistles *are* very deep-rooted, and you can't dig them out (or you can, kind of, but every bit of root you miss turns into a new plant). I'd be less hyped up on them but they've smothered everything in some areas and spread out to our neighbors' lawns. Almost nobody on my street uses chemicals, which I'm grateful for, but I'm sure they don't appreciate it when we let some of the thistles go to seed because we just can't keep up! They're probably not too bad in the long run compared with knapweed, though. My current strategy is to use vinegar on the worst of the thistle patches, and then encourage as many dandelions as I can, and possibly plant mint. I love it when people remind me "the mint will take over" because I've never yet had it take over a thistle patch but would be thrilled if it did!
I did actually rent lawnmowing goats one year! They were very effective and ate all the thistles (I wasn't really aware of the extent of the knapweed problem at that point so can't report on that). They're expensive, though. We live within city limits, and sadly are not allowed to keep goats or pigs (my son really wanted a pig for a long time, but we found out it was a no-go when I had to ask about permission for the temporary goats).
Hmm, too bad! I have some persistent "weeds" -- a word I dislike but.... in one garden bed, and all I know to do is mulch heavily, keep it moist if possible, OVER-plant, and then keep pulling the suckers out.
On a similar note, I wondered just yesterday what the ranchers in your area may be doing to maintain or improve their pastures. Many grasslands in the southwest suffer from being dominated by annual grasses that are easily overgrazed by cattle, while rangeland with a mix of perennial grasses that are also under active grazing management are doing better at keeping roots in the ground and putting moisture there for more consistent vitality.
I know one cattle rancher who is passionate about restorative agriculture and fully grass-fed cattle (I got a steer from him this year). By "passionate" I mean it's hard to get off the phone. He tries to mimic the way buffalo grazed, and follows his chicken coop (an old camper) around after the cows because he says that birds used to follow the buffalo around and eat bugs after they'd left.
I listened to an interview with a wildlife biologist at the Caesar Kleberg Wildlife Institute down in Texas last week. The podcast host (Ed Roberson of Mountain & Prairie) mentioned toward the end some areas of Colorado, where he lives, that were irrigated farmland and have essentially had to be abandoned because they've run out of water, and he said that it's a big issue now because you've essentially got 100,000 acres of invasive weeds.
The presence of knapweed in my yard has started to worry me more, now that I know a bit more about it.
I love this one, Nia. I suppose there's something to be said for our idea that we can live in one place and have the expectations of it the same as from another. The world just doesn't work that way, does it?
But here's a poem your essay reminded me of. I love it.
Oh my gosh that is *perfect.* What a beautiful poem, and exactly maybe what I was musing about but she actually said it in real words, and better ones.
No, it isn't. I remember hearing about loss of nutrition even in soil farmed with organic practices back when we lived in New York, but at the time it was only my super-crunchy leaning toward anti-vaxx friends who mentioned it so I didn't take it very seriously. But then those studies started coming out about loss of topsoil. 60 years is it? It's something that stresses me out, too. There are quite a number of farmers dedicated to no-till farming, which is heartening.
Good point about Mars. I thought about mentioning that but don't really know enough about it. But it's true.
If I get too caught up in it all I remind myself that the planet will be burned to a crisp by the sun within 6 billion years ;)
Very funny! But not totally true. You consistently point out the good things that tech is capable of doing if we find ways to use it that serve life rather than solely profit. It's hard to feel like you're living on the cusp of a paradigm shift, but not knowing which way the shift is going to send us. That's not a tirade!
I kind of love chat relationships with my kids. My son can be as snarky as he likes and my daughter can throw a gazillion wolf and unicorn emojis in there. It's delightful.
I was delighted to see that you recommended Charlotte Gill's book, Eating Dirt, in your post last week. And to learn that Sarah Boon recommended to you. This book seems to inspire that kind of behavior.
Several years ago, my friend Rick Simonson—he is the head buyer and readings coordinator for Elliott Bay Books in Seattle, so he knows where the best books are buried—walked up to me while I was browsing and said, "Here's a book you're really going to like." He handed me a copy of Eating Dirt, and I have been positively evangelical about it ever sense, pressing it into the hands of unsuspecting friends and dinner guests like some street-corner fanatic. It's such a smart, funny, clear-eyed and emotionally intelligent story about our well-meaning but disastrous attempts to improve what Mother Nature got right in the first place. Everyone should read it.
What a wonderful story! You're right, it seems to inspire that kind of behavior. Before I came home to this message (I don't have email on my phone anymore), I had recommended it to two different people, one a music teacher who recently lost a parent and was talking about gardening as part of the grieving process, and the other a local farmer. I feel like it's one of those books I might buy a pile of just to be able to give it to people. Last time I did that it was Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle."
Fascinating essay, as always! I never really thought about where soil comes from. Looking around, slowing down, pausing and thinking about things like this just makes me appreciate the wonder of it. Thank you, have a great weekend.
I hadn't either! My husband and I were just at the hardware store trying to figure out if we should buy some potting soil and it was weird to look at all those bags in a new way after even a bit of brief research. Also I'm surprised it's not in short supply like so many other things (lumber, appliances, etc.).
This essay has been living in my head since I first read it moments after it arrived in my inbox. I am the daughter of a farmer who has used very "conventional" methods for 50 years. I worry about that soil. And I worry about water so much, especially in this alarmingly dry year in the PNW. While I have avoided peat for the reasons you mention, I am embarrassed to admit that I have never truly thought about the idea of topsoil in bags obviously being stripped from elsewhere. I think I tended to think of it like compost, which is renewable. I am very grateful for our local compost program.
Don't be embarrassed! I never really thought about it either. We can't think of things until we think of them, can we?
My grandfather farmed conventionally until he sold his wheat ranch in the late 1990s. It's very hard to do it otherwise. One cool thing is that the couple who bought the ranch (very nice people) still farm conventionally, but have a son who took a section and has been doing organic kamut and lentil for about 15 years now. There aren't many like that but they're persistent and starting to make a bit of a difference.
Glad you have a few options -- that cow bedding sounds great. Coconut coir which can be purchased in compressed bricks that expand greatly with water is a great peat substitute. But the biggest issue is system-wide: reliance by hort-and agriculture on artificial chemical use which kills the micro-organisms in the soil, and the widespread practice of removing organic material from pretty much everywhere as waste and discarding it, when it needs to be returned to the soil to support soil life. This is why previous generations could grow such lush gardens and we can't. It does take persistence and time to repair the damage. I am struggling with clay soil in NC, in a yard that never knew anything but chemically supported maintenance. I can never make enough compost. I grow comfrey and clover; I purchase expensive, organic potting soil and grow some things in big containers with additional (purchased) steer manure and alfalfa -- and it just take time to heal the damage.
I think I'll try for the cow bedding. I kind of assumed they'd have too much demand but I never even asked, and I know their cows have pretty good lives (it's a farm you can visit in person any day) and it's only a few miles away.
You're right, though, that the problem is a systemic one (like so many others). When we visit my relatives' ranch in Eastern Montana, we drive through miles of wheat fields, all looking green and vibrant, but as a friend has pointed out repeatedly, most of that soil is dead from decades of trading between weedkillers/pesticides and fertilizers. Though there are some farmers in that area who shifted to organic, starting with lentils and kamut.
Reading your description made me realize I should actually be grateful for all the thistles and knapweed! Despite their being invasive and frustrating, at least it shows a lack of chemical weedkillers over the past few decades. Also, your comments remind me that spending a lifetime trying to bring damaged, neglected, abused soil back to health and well-being for its very own sake is not a bad thing.
Yes! And I think it is one of the kindest and most helpful things a person can do for planet and the rest of us humans. Plus which, it ends up addressing other grave problems, water shortages, biodiversity loss, and climate change -- all are helped by improving how we treat the soil around us.
Thistles, as I understand, are deep-rooted and so help to aerate the soil down where it is hard to penetrate. Knapweed, well, it does cover, LOL! but yes, anything growing is better than nothing at all, and if you can leave areas alone, there will be a succession that will lead to greater health....
So true! Biodiversity loss and erosion/water loss are things that keep me up at night.
Thistles *are* very deep-rooted, and you can't dig them out (or you can, kind of, but every bit of root you miss turns into a new plant). I'd be less hyped up on them but they've smothered everything in some areas and spread out to our neighbors' lawns. Almost nobody on my street uses chemicals, which I'm grateful for, but I'm sure they don't appreciate it when we let some of the thistles go to seed because we just can't keep up! They're probably not too bad in the long run compared with knapweed, though. My current strategy is to use vinegar on the worst of the thistle patches, and then encourage as many dandelions as I can, and possibly plant mint. I love it when people remind me "the mint will take over" because I've never yet had it take over a thistle patch but would be thrilled if it did!
LOL Yes! some takeovers are more benign than others!
Have you considered getting a goat? I also have seen pigs entirely demolish areas of blackberry -- another plant that's real hard to get rid of.
Wishing you good luck with these challenges!
I did actually rent lawnmowing goats one year! They were very effective and ate all the thistles (I wasn't really aware of the extent of the knapweed problem at that point so can't report on that). They're expensive, though. We live within city limits, and sadly are not allowed to keep goats or pigs (my son really wanted a pig for a long time, but we found out it was a no-go when I had to ask about permission for the temporary goats).
Hmm, too bad! I have some persistent "weeds" -- a word I dislike but.... in one garden bed, and all I know to do is mulch heavily, keep it moist if possible, OVER-plant, and then keep pulling the suckers out.
On a similar note, I wondered just yesterday what the ranchers in your area may be doing to maintain or improve their pastures. Many grasslands in the southwest suffer from being dominated by annual grasses that are easily overgrazed by cattle, while rangeland with a mix of perennial grasses that are also under active grazing management are doing better at keeping roots in the ground and putting moisture there for more consistent vitality.
I know one cattle rancher who is passionate about restorative agriculture and fully grass-fed cattle (I got a steer from him this year). By "passionate" I mean it's hard to get off the phone. He tries to mimic the way buffalo grazed, and follows his chicken coop (an old camper) around after the cows because he says that birds used to follow the buffalo around and eat bugs after they'd left.
I listened to an interview with a wildlife biologist at the Caesar Kleberg Wildlife Institute down in Texas last week. The podcast host (Ed Roberson of Mountain & Prairie) mentioned toward the end some areas of Colorado, where he lives, that were irrigated farmland and have essentially had to be abandoned because they've run out of water, and he said that it's a big issue now because you've essentially got 100,000 acres of invasive weeds.
The presence of knapweed in my yard has started to worry me more, now that I know a bit more about it.
Oops, link: https://mountainandprairie.com/david-hewitt/
I love this one, Nia. I suppose there's something to be said for our idea that we can live in one place and have the expectations of it the same as from another. The world just doesn't work that way, does it?
But here's a poem your essay reminded me of. I love it.
soil
by Irene Mathieu
the way you say soil
sounds like soul, as in
after we walked through the woods
my feet were covered in soul
when it rains
the soul turns to mud
the soul is made of decomposed
plant and animal matter;
edaphology is the study of the soul’s
influence on living things
while pedology is the study of how
soul is formed, its particular granularity.
you are rooted in a certain red patch
of soul that bled you and your
hundred cousins to life, a slow
warm river you call home.
maybe there is soul under everything,
even when we strike rock first.
the way you say soil you make
a poem out of every speck of dirt.
Oh my gosh that is *perfect.* What a beautiful poem, and exactly maybe what I was musing about but she actually said it in real words, and better ones.
Not better, just different. And yes, it's a beautiful poem.
Thank you for sharing it. That one might join Wendell Berry above my desk.
No, it isn't. I remember hearing about loss of nutrition even in soil farmed with organic practices back when we lived in New York, but at the time it was only my super-crunchy leaning toward anti-vaxx friends who mentioned it so I didn't take it very seriously. But then those studies started coming out about loss of topsoil. 60 years is it? It's something that stresses me out, too. There are quite a number of farmers dedicated to no-till farming, which is heartening.
Good point about Mars. I thought about mentioning that but don't really know enough about it. But it's true.
If I get too caught up in it all I remind myself that the planet will be burned to a crisp by the sun within 6 billion years ;)
Very funny! But not totally true. You consistently point out the good things that tech is capable of doing if we find ways to use it that serve life rather than solely profit. It's hard to feel like you're living on the cusp of a paradigm shift, but not knowing which way the shift is going to send us. That's not a tirade!
I kind of love chat relationships with my kids. My son can be as snarky as he likes and my daughter can throw a gazillion wolf and unicorn emojis in there. It's delightful.
I also love my chat relationships with my kids!
It's fun!