Chemicals.

A few weeks back a single moment in the field hit me. I saw it with my own two eyes. It was not just an article I read or a scene I saw in a movie. It became real. I realized we have been so removed from how our food is grown and where it comes from. Even though Ben and I are continually trending in a direction toward sustainability and living naturally, in my mind, this moment thrust me forward ten steps.

At Common Harvest we put great attention and our whole energy into caring for the land we work, the food we grow, and the wildlife around us.

We were at work, finally in the field. Dan driving the tractor, Ben and I on the transplanter. We had just finished a row and were reloading some flats. We heard a rumble coming down the road. When you live out in the country, traffic is infrequent, it typically draws attention. We look up to see a semi truck hauling large tanks. The words out of Dan's mouth dropped like a ton of bricks on my ears, "there go the chemicals."

All of this went racing through my mind...

The seeds rest in my palm and one by one are placed into a fertile mix of potting soil and compost. The greenhouse is the perfect host for these seeds to germinate and flourish. We check the plants at least two times a day, water as needed. The sun produces a humid 80 degree climate. The ideal growing conditions.

But nature is not ideal. A winter that hangs on too long. Snow. The coldest April in over 100 years. More clouds than sun. A blizzard in May. Even though according to prior years many things should have been in the ground, we waited. And waited.

The snow melts. The temp rises. The soil slowly warms. But there has to be a transition. This is where the cold frame enters the picture. Plants are moved to 50 degrees and exposed to gentle breezes. The stems are able to strengthen and hold up the growing leaves. The plants have adjusted and are ready...

And at last so are some of the fields. Dan spent almost every day on the tractor for two weeks. It took about three hours per field spreading compost and poultry manure to enhance the nutrients for the forthcoming plants.

The tractor just fits into the tunnels and is used to prepare the center rows. But the most northern and the most southern has to be prepared by hand. With digging forks, we break the ground then wheelbarrow load by wheelbarrow load shovel compost down the whole row. Another go with the forks to turn in the compost. Five hours later one row is prepared for plants.

In the field we ride the transplanter to get the seedlings into the fertile soil. We have a flat with 98 plants on our lap, take one at a time, hold the soil block, place the stem and leaves into the spinning disks until they have a firm grip and grab the next plant. Do not be mistaken, this all happens very quickly. After a field is planted, we walk down every row to tuck in any plants that did not get covered by soil and to put a plant where we missed one.

The tunnels are a different process. We string a line to be sure we plant a straight row, get on our knees at the beginning, plant a seedling and measure the length to where the next one will go. A single row takes anywhere from 2-8 hours.

No matter where we plant, water is always needed. Hours upon hours are spent dragging layflat and hauling irrigation piping. A never ending job to be sure the plants are hydrated.

A late frost in the middle of May to a non farmer is just another day, maybe a crabby one, but not THAT big of a deal. But to a vegetable farmer, it is stress and time and money. Two days of unrolling row cover over the most delicate plants. All this put into saving a crop, knowing that the frost will actually only be a couple hour window over night - then it will be done and a new day of warmth will come.

With warmth come weeds. Pigweed. Purslane. Quack grass. Rye. Lamb's quarters. Some pretty, some edible, but when its not wanted, its a weed. We use wheel hoes and English style hoes and Diamond hoes. Row by row eliminate the weeds that are consuming nutrients from the soil. I used to be committed to doing P90X and Jillian Michael videos and going for 10 mile runs. Now, I wheel hoe. Seriously. a. workout.

With cold damp soils come pesty slugs and bugs. Cabbage maggots love...you guessed it, cabbage. We put row cover to prevent the attack. Every potato beetle we see, we smoosh between our fingers.

Our ten hour work days are spent nurturing and learning and planting and seeding and sweating and hoeing and walking and lifting and shoveling and managing. All because we are farmers. We want to produce good food.

Now, I am standing in this field, looking at this truck, and trying to comprehend how and why. Just down the road is the destination of these chemicals. An hour later, it comes back for a refill. We are surrounded by fields that are saturated in chemicals - apparently the answer to weeds and pests. The problem - these are synthetic, not natural. They are being sprayed onto the food we eat. They kill unwanted things. How can we be sure that these unnatural chemicals are not having a negative affect on our bodies? Chemicals are used in conventional farming because the amount of acreage covered by one farmer is too large to farm in great detail. Are these pesticides and herbicides sprayed onto these massive plots of land so smart that they only kill the unwanted? What about the monarch butterflies and the water we drink and the red belly snakes and the hummingbirds and the sunfish and the weeping willows?

These are thoughts I had before this moment. But like I said, it suddenly became very real. I saw the act happening.  The importance of our workdays just multiplied in my mind. There is a glaring need for small, sustainable, organic farmers. We as consumers need to be aware and connected to our food. We need to understand where it comes from and how it is grown and what is on it that should not be. We need to realize that we have power because of the food choices we make.