Seeing the light?

At this time of year, getting your butt out of bed in time to watch the sun come up does not make you an early riser or a high-achiever. Late autumn sets the bar pretty low. There are many of us stumbling around in the semi-darkness.

Still, I can’t help feeling a bit self-satisfied, slurping coffee as the meagre light slants across the field outside my window and spreads over the sky like my dim consciousness. The day might get ahead of me at some point, but at least we’re starting out together.

Peeking past the obnoxious, sprawling geraniums that are overwintering indoors, I’m content knowing our gardens around the house have been topped up with compost and bedded down with leaves. Fortunately, we got the garlic planted before wetter weather set in. Unfortunately, I did not get around to bush-hogging the raspberries, which continued producing until November. Taking the tractor out there now would create a big muddy mess, so I guess I’ll wait for a freeze-up, or maybe attempt to hack down the canes with a scythe. That’s about it for seasonal chores.

For the last few weeks, our house was under siege by a small army of pie pumpkins. As the nights got cold, they advanced from the porch into our semi-heated entranceway – and then we were engaged in a battle for control of the mudroom. Back in early summer, we fought on behalf of the pumpkins, defending them from the ravages of Cucumber beetles. Countless beetles were smooshed (many dying in the act of love!) before the pumpkin plants gained momentum and eventually covered our manure pile with a tangle of thick foliage. It was nice to get a bumper crop – but you can’t have a bunch of pumpkins hanging around the house. They might look OK on the outside, but bad things are happening inside.

I used to think of pumpkins as bloated, watery squash, but I’ve come to appreciate them more, despite their limited keepability. It’s too bad that this vegetable’s reputation has been sullied by the proliferation of “pumpkin spice” junk foods, because real pumpkins are actually delicious and versatile, with a quite respectable nutrition profile. The point is, I hate to see them go to waste. (By contrast, the pattypans that took refuge in the mudroom were not worth eating, despite being kind of cute. This year, we chopped up most of them for goat fodder. Next year we’ll plant fewer, and enjoy them while they’re young and tender.)

Compared to squash, these little pumpkins are easy to cleave with a knife, and quick to roast on a cookie sheet. The goats gorge on the raw pulp, which results in their beards being slicked orange. (Sometimes we separate the seeds, to roast them for snacking – but sometimes I’m too lazy, so the goats get all those Omega acids.)

Hardly anyone would put up an argument against the virtues of pie, but for the sake of efficiency we often skip the crust and just make a big pan of pumpkin custard, which is equally suitable for breakfast or as a dessert drizzled with maple syrup (or honey, for the likes of Micheal Magnini). And when there’s chicken stock on hand, super-gingery pumpkin soup is the order of the day. You can also use up a lot of cooked pumpkin in muffins (at a higher proportion than most recipes recommend), and for bulking up a curry. Some people use it in smoothies. Any extra can be frozen – but the freezer’s pretty much full. We are fortunate indeed.

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Today there is snow on the ground, which enhances the quality of the light and the lightness of the mood – but no one expects winter to set in this early, if at all. It’s just a light dusting, and a brief distraction from recent reports of flooding – messy and destructive in several places across Atlantic Canada, but catastrophic in southern British Columbia.

It’s hard to imagine the sense of anxiety and defeat affecting farmers who are coming to terms with huge losses of livestock. But there have been stories of perseverance, and of people pulling together in this crisis. I was struck by the radio interview with a B.C. chicken producer who talked about having to evacuate, leaving some 40,000 birds to die. You could tell he was on the verge of tears – and yet, he expressed concern for smaller farmers who might not be getting as much support from industry organizations and governments.

So there is hope, as we stagger to the end of what has been, in many ways, a year of reckoning. Some will say we shouldn’t ascribe too much prophetic meaning to a single weather event – or two, or three. How many red flags is it going to take?

There is a growing recognition that we need to change the way we do things, in order to improve the odds of a sane and secure future for the next few generations. It’s not just the climate, but also the way we have sprawled out across the planet with a general lack of foresight, altering landscapes and disrupting ecological processes. In many segments of our society, there is now a desire to work together to build more sustainable systems – but we remain a long way off from any kind of consensus on the means or the terms. There is a lot of competition for control of the message.

The forest industry, for example, is keen to stake out the high ground. But the science of carbon sequestration is complicated, and it cannot be viewed in isolation from other long-term sustainability issues. Much depends upon harvest and retention levels, canopy cover, stand composition, soil compaction, and road construction practices. Details matter. If we’re going to bank on significant amounts of atmospheric carbon being pulled out of the air and safely locked down in forests, we need rigorous protocols and stringent oversight.

Community Forests International (CFI), a non-profit organization headquartered in Sackville, N.B., has done important work on quantifying forest carbon, and finding ways to remunerate small landowners for maintaining and increasing it. The group also recently released a report on the role of intact forests in mitigating food risk – specifically in the Saint John River Valley, and in flood-prone regions generally. Until recently, most people thought of forests either as a resource to be transformed into a trade commodity, or as having some kind of inherent value; now we are learning to think of them as “natural infrastructure” with the capacity to provide much-needed “ecosystems services.” The language of utility seems to be our common tongue.

In November, an international conference called Trees for the Future was held at the University of Birmingham, in the English Midlands, focusing on the connection between forest diversity and long-term carbon sequestration. This goes back to Charles Darwin’s observation, in his 1859 book On the Origin of Species, that establishing a mixture of plants in the same area tends to provide a higher overall yield than separate plantings of each species. It seems like common sense that diversity provides resilience, since we cannot know which species will crash due to disease, insect infestation, or weather-related stress. But we are unaccustomed to thinking of diversity as a means of increasing productivity. This should be a key consideration as we restore and expand our forests.

There is also a new climate-oriented discourse related to farming. I think it’s safe to say the general public is now thoroughly confused about “regenerative agriculture” – and we can chalk that up as a success for agri-business. Suddenly, all the big players in the food industry have got religion. General Mills, Nestlé, Cargill – and even that bastion of healthy eating, PepsiCo – have said they are committed to supporting regenerative agriculture in their supply chains, which together encompass millions of acres. They appropriated the term from the organic farming sector, which had been using it for decades, and now they intend to decide for themselves how it will be defined and how the success of this effort will be measured.

A central tenet of regenerative agriculture, and one universally agreed upon, is that more carbon can and should be sequestered in the ground by increasing soil organic matter. Agri-business has seized upon the idea that this can be accomplished by adopting no-till cropping, which usually relies heavily on the use of herbicides. However, this is neither the only nor the best way.

A non-profit called Regeneration Canada is working to promote a broader approach that also includes restoring biodiversity, improving water cycles, and supporting a food system that provides good health for consumers and economic viability for farmers. One of the objectives is to ensure there is some degree of accountability for corporations that are engaged in a massive rebranding exercise based on their seemingly ambitious claims about regenerative agriculture. Citizens and governments need to read the fine print.

These issues will demand our attention in 2022 – but we’re not there yet. For now, the season imposes a time of rest and reflection. So light a candle (preferably beeswax), and be not afraid. Let some gladness into your heart, and ready yourself for the work that must be done in the new year ahead. Best holiday wishes from all of us at Rural Delivery. DL