Now in its 24th year, I believe that Earthaven is in a stage of cultural succession in which collaborative farming has more of a role to play than in the early years. The pioneer effort of Earthaven’s first two decades created both the literal and cultural topsoil needed for supporting plants and the human systems it takes to sustain that production.

Food production has as much to offer the community for its human relational benefits as for its survival function. For now, we know we won’t starve if our crops fail. Our privileged access to many backup food sources is a huge cushion. Although it is likely in coming decades that intensive self-reliant food production will become necessary instead of optional, for now it is a choice.

So why would any of us choose to grow food? Why don’t we just keep growing good topsoil? Growing significant amounts of food is hard work that requires diligence, sacrifice, and a total reset of activities and priorities, without anything like a guaranteed success.

Although I cannot speak for the livestock or biodynamic farmers or the numerous home gardeners and landscape managers who are my neighbors, I’ve articulated these goals for myself, and I believe we generally share them:

To develop a culture of collaborative farming and mutual aid which is enjoyable, satisfying and full of purpose.

To maximize learning now through successes and failures of edgy experiments, while fossil fuels and specialized resources are available as a safety net.

To develop an adaptive, climate-resilient agro-ecological system that can healthily sustain people indefinitely, even in a subsistence lifestyle.

To obtain enough yields of diverse foods, medicines, fiber and fodder and to learn to skillfully cook and/or process them for an integrated agro-ecological lifeway.

To influence other farmers through example and proof of concept, as communicated through farming together, as well as educational formats and writing.

To design a system which is >90% self-sufficient in nutrients, minerals and organic matter.

To breed seeds and plants for maximum diversity, for polyculture and successional farming practices, for micro-local adaptation, and for flavor and nutrient density.

photos, from top: Local liquid concoctions for Xmas Eve; preparing “lasagna” gardens is a big job!; Meira leads Julia through the milpa; Full Circle Farm potato harvest curing.

Zev Friedman is a leading permaculture designer, researcher, teacher and writer in western North Carolina, specializing in hands-on, in-depth permaculture and earthskills education. He lives in the Hut Hamlet. Feel free to contact Zev directly with comments, questions, and your own stories at zevkudzu at gmail.com.

The post Why I Bother to Farm at Earthaven, Part Two: A Collaborative Farming Manifesto appeared first on Earthaven Ecovillage.

“The pioneer effort that founded Earthaven created both literal and

cultural topsoil, which is now capable of supporting not only plants

but the human systems it takes to

successfully grow food.”

I’ve heard early members of Earthaven frequently remark that this ecovillage was framed as a pioneer project: they wanted to start a project that was boldly different than anything that existed, not just graft onto existing societal norms and have to compromise from the outset. They also chose a piece of densely forested land with no clearings, which meant they had to clear large amounts of forest, thereby re-starting the process of succession.

below: Carving Gateway field from the forest

After a forest is cut down, fast-growing, sun-loving “pioneer” plants explode into activity, filling the forest canopy gap with life and beginning the process of what ecologists call succession. Pioneer species grow rapidly, make lots of biomass and begin to restore topsoil, cover horizontal ground, prepare and then give way to secondary succession species, onwards through waves of other stages until a forest ecosystem peaks at around 125-150 years of age.

Due to the initial conditions at Earthaven, the first 10 years of physical work was mostly spent clearing trees and creating basic infrastructure, all while people worked to make income, raise children, and develop the organizational architecture of the community. I’ve heard that many visitors during the pioneer stage remarked on how little food production they witnessed, expecting to see residents eating meals composed of all homegrown food. What they witnessed was an assortment of mostly urban refugees attempting to rapidly master many new skills at once. To nurture the dream of a self-reliant ecovillage would surely take many decades or generations to come into fruition.

above: The milpa in cover crop viewed from the remains of a pioneer-era structure.

Now that Earthaven is going into its 24th year, we’re moving into a new stage of cultural succession, in which collaborative farming has more of a role to play than it did in the early years. Some major infrastructural bones of Earthaven are in place, so the flesh of plants and farming culture can grow on them. Another way to say it is that the pioneer effort that founded Earthaven has created both literal and cultural topsoil, which is now capable of supporting not only actual plants but also the human systems that it takes to successfully grow food.

above: Zev and friends replanting the Hut Hamlet Milpa.

Feel free to contact Zev directly with comments, questions, and your own stories at zevkudzu at gmail.com.

The post Pioneering and Succession appeared first on Earthaven Ecovillage.