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It takes a village - to feed the soil.

written by

Michelle Sroka

posted on

October 1, 2021

"It takes a village." Often, we hear that in regard to raising children. But have you ever thought about it in terms of....caring for the soil?

Consider one of our everyday chores -- moving our cows. It is actually one of the few chores that happens everyday throughout the course of the year, winter or summer.

When Joe moves the cows, he lifts up the reel that divides yesterday's paddock from today's new one. If you're just watching that (and you can do so here!) then you might start to envision the community that makes just that action possible. There's the people moving the cows -- Joe and the boys -- and the cows themselves. There's the people who make and ship and deliver the reels.

But what about the village within the soil - both above and below the surface? Who and what is participating there?

When a cow steps onto their fresh paddock, they are doing two new things: taking a bite of the grass, which stimulates its regrowth, and spreading their manure as they walk. But they are also leaving behind yesterday's paddock. This doesn't mean that the paddock is abandoned, however. Rather, the cows' departure allows the other participants in the soil to do their work.

When a cow deposits their organic matter, or manure, on the ground, it trickles down underneath to both the roots of the plants and the microorganisms that live underneath the soil. These roots and microorganisms are part of a soil food web, in which the microbes and arthropods feed on the organic matter, in turn feeding the plants above them.

What rotational grazing promotes is a healthier partnership among these organisms and roots beneath the soil. Because the pasture rests, the grass grows higher. Because the grass grows taller, the roots extend further beneath the soil. Not only does this extend the activity beneath the soil, but it also creates less disturbance on the organic matter stored within the soil, resulting in the "carbon sequestration" you may have heard about.

From here, there is an explosion of participation. Seeds from a variety of diverse and native plants take root and grow, creating greater complexity in the pasture. The plants that cows choose not to graze, such as goldenrod, bloom and invite pollinators such as butterflies and bees into the pasture.

Humans, then, are just one small part of this cycle. We're the facilitators. We create paddocks for the cattle, and then we get out of the way. Our job is not to do the heavy work, but to create a space in which it can happen and flourish.

This is yet another reason why it's important to think about human beings as participants in nature, not as apart from it, as I've written before. It's also a good reminder as we get closer to the barrenness of winter. Even when it feels cold and dead above the soil, there's still much going on beneath it.

More from the blog

Can we care about animals - and still raise them for food?

I probably spend the most time with the pigs on our farm. Part of this is practical: since pigs can’t sweat, we spray them down twice a day to help them wallow in the mud and stay cool.  But part of it is emotional, too. I enjoy being around the pigs. When there’s a lot on my mind, or I’ve spent too much time on the computer and need to get outside, wandering over to that week’s pig paddock is one of the ways I can clear my mind.  Pigs are highly emotive and responsive. When I spray them down with the hose, they like to sit back on their haunches, prick back their ears, and snap playfully at the water as it showers down on them. And then joyfully roll around in the mud afterward, of course.  But they’re responsive to humans in general, too. They are naturally curious and, in the case of our heritage breed Red Wattles, gentle. They’ll come up and sniff you, rub their mud-streaked bellies over you, and let you scratch their ears.  And maybe this is the part where you start to wonder: But aren’t you raising them for food?  Why would you want an emotional connection to an animal that you are raising for food?  I understand where this question is coming from. I was a vegetarian for nearly a decade because I didn’t like the thought of killing animals, especially within the framework of our industrial food system.  But actually, it isn’t a problem or moral quandary for me. Yes, we grow fond of and attached to our animals, including our pigs.  Yes, we still send them to the butcher or process them on our farm for food. And yes, this still makes sense to me.  I would gently suggest that the idea that we shouldn’t have any emotional connection to our food - that we can only eat meat that comes from animals we withhold our emotions or affection from - is a sign of our disconnection to the way food is grown.  That is, after all, one of the premises of industrial agriculture. Designate animals with one sole purpose - “becoming food” - and then shut them away in buildings, cramped quarters, or far away from humans who might interact with them beyond the farmer.  And the farmer, too, should be as disconnected as possible. After all, this is an efficient machine.  The problem, from a regenerative perspective, is that growing food is never just about growing food. Food is the gift you receive at the end of your work, but it’s the work itself - and the consequences of the work beyond the food - that is the point.  The work, on our farm, is caring for the land. That means working alongside animals to nurture native plants, clear forest areas to make existing trees healthier, and create habitats for birds, pollinators, and wildlife.  And that means becoming attentive and thoughtful - to animals and to the land. Watching, learning, and yes, developing bonds with the habitats you’re nurturing and the animals that are helping you do so.  Is it sad to load up animals and take them to the butcher at the end of the season? Yes, it often can be. But I don’t feel guilty about it. I know that we’ve given them the best life possible, and that we’ve partnered with them to leave our farm better than we found it each year.  And if that doesn’t make sense, that’s okay. I’m not saying that everyone has to agree with me. I’d simply like to advocate for a way of farming and consuming meat that includes this experience - one of affection and bonding between animals and humans.  After all, this is one of the many ways we try to do things differently on our farm. We don’t want to just provide you with food that meets your standards - non-GMO, no vaccines, no antibiotics, grass-fed and pasture-raised.  We also want to help you reconnect with that food. And part of that is knowing the animals, hearing stories about them, and yes, maybe even having an emotional connection with them, despite the end goal of providing meat to you.