(Please note: All photographs with this essay came from
http://www.barefootfarmer.com/ the Barefoot Farmer's website.)
One of the pleasures I derive from living here is my participation in the Wilson County Master Gardener (WCMG) program, a collective of community-minded volunteers working under the auspices of the University of Tennessee (UT) and Tennessee State University (TSU) agricultural Extension Service. While I rarely write about my involvement with this group, I find myself today still pleased by the speaker who presented to our group last night. His philosophy matches my own, only it has become better articulated through practice. Additionally, the community-centered aspect of his philosophy is a part of the belief system I am currently developing. Certainly the UT/TSU Master Gardeners include organic practices among those we study and utilize; however, much of the program focus includes practices developed in the past half-century. Those more recent practices emphasize dominating Nature rather than working in concert with Nature’s miraculous gifts to us. Much of current agricultural theory and practice is simply lost on me.
Last night’s speaker, Jeff Poppen, runs Long Hungry Creek Farm in Red Boiling Springs—one of the oldest and largest organic/biodynamic farms in Tennessee. He is affectionately known as “The Barefoot Gardener.” He began writing a column by that name in 1993 for the Macon County Chronicle and has since collected and edited his favorite articles into a book, also by that name. Although I have only scratched the surface of his book (Of course I bought a copy last night!) I see that his practices are far better informed than my own nascent ideology and that I have much to learn from him. The little he had time to share with our group last night resonated more deeply with me than any of the previous WCMG presentations.
What I heard was simple: by working with the earth, respecting Nature’s cycles and the contribution of every being (birds, insects, etc.) to the land, and feeding the land using the resources available on the farm, a farmer/gardener can provide his or her own community with enough of Earth’s gifts to contribute to the community’s sustenance. His definitions of gardening terms are far more basic, organic than those frequently employed. When asked about his CSA (Community Supported Agriculture—a system whereby patrons contribute to the farm and, in return, receive weekly produce for a specified period of time), he did not trot out stories of artfully arranged boxes prepared for each patron. Instead, he explained that each week he will haul produce to a central site where patrons come and select whatever they choose, and any leftover produce at the end of the day goes to charity. He’s a farmer and takes joy in the growing, not the marketing and package presentation. When asked, repeatedly, if he would consider providing for interested Wilson County residents, his first reaction was that we could produce for our own community from within our own community. A Master Gardener observed that we already have a Farmer’s Market in town, not to mention countless roadside stands and tailgate vendors. Work within the community; eat locally.
I liked that Jeff builds, well feeds, his soil carefully—without tilling the soil or rushing his compost. At first, when he spoke about using a tractor to rake, harrow, perhaps even to plow his land, I thought these were the equivalent of tilling—a practice I understand to be destructive. When he later answered a question directly about rototilling, I discovered how wrong I had been, and I was glad to have been wrong. He uses care, handles the soil gently. He even “cooks” his compost slowly, working to keep his compost piles below 120 degrees. I felt validated for having sold our Compost Tumbler before moving here; the high heat did break down the organic matter, but the resulting compost just didn’t feel “alive” to me. Jeff’s talk validated my sense that the good, old-fashioned compost pile like the one behind the tool shed where I grew up—the place where we piled leaves and plant matter every fall—is actually preferable to quickly-cooked compost. Perhaps my biggest disconnect with current agricultural methods is around pesticides; I don’t use them.
When asked about how he manages insects on his farm, he explained that insects are to be watched and learned from—not chemically eradicated. Given the slow view to gardening, Jeff explained that insects turn up when the plants are not thriving fully from the soil. The insects arrive to help break the plant down into the rich soil, the humus, in which plants thrive. “Well, what do you do about cabbage?” asked a Master Gardener. Jeff explained that he does not plant any cabbage (or any brassicas for that matter), until late in the season: when the plants grow into cooling temperatures, cabbage worms are not needed to break down the plant. Only by planting early in the season, and asking the brassicas (cabbage, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and the like) to grow into weather that’s continually heating up—not the environment these plans need—will the insects be needed to break the plant back into humus to be used to feed other plants.
Similarly, he avoids weeds in the garden by weeding, yes, but not just to clean up the garden. He explained that if one weed gets thrives it sends a message, calling to its fellow weeds to thrive alongside it. By disrupting the germination of weeds through hoeing and raking he allows his crops to root and grow, at which time the bean plants (for example) are sending strong messages to recruit other bean plants—instead of weeds calling to weeds.
What does he do about irrigation?, one member asked. He doesn’t, was the simple answer. Again, when the soil is alive and rich, the humus retains the moisture the plants need. I could not have articulated that thought, but I have long resisted watering except in the most dire heat waves. By listening to Jeff, I was encouraged to continue building the soil here slowly and excited to come home to thumb through the seed catalogues that have begun to inundate our mailbox in the annual midwinter migration from printer to dreaming gardener.
Entering the WCMG meeting, I had known that I want to work with the earth and I had some ideas of how this can be done, but Jeff’s vision is far more developed than my own, and he sees layers I have yet to discover. Tomorrow the forecast is for snow; perhaps I’ll get to stay inside and indulge myself by reading his book!
Oh, and for those who may be wondering: Jeff Poppen is indeed the barefoot gardener. I first saw him exploring the Wilson County Fair last August and his bare feet seemed fitting. Last night, as the temperature dipped back into the teens, his attire had not changed, and his feet were shod only in their skin and perhaps a smidge of soil.
