Just back from two and a half weeks of holiday in
There exists a good deal of concern around how a projected population of nine billion people might coexist on this planet. The tensions between food, fibre and fuel are placing a lot of stress on the soils that sustain us. These stresses are compounded by modern material aspirations and the global attraction toward what some might call the myth of the American Dream. As some people find their place on the sliding scale between standard of living and quality of life, many still struggle to meet basic needs. Within the resulting complex of human condition, and pressing present concerns, how can we find what is needed to follow David Montgomery’s advice and stop treating soil like dirt[1]?
Back in the garden a conversation got me thinking about why I like to grow my own food. With about 2000 square feet in production the quantity is measurable, but is still only a portion of annual food requirements. Dairy, some meat and processed foods, as well as flour and processed grain make up the balance. Beyond that there are all the other requirements of life such as shelter, transportation and fun, and cash is used to meet these ends. Further, in this economy of specialisation the cash equivalent of our total food production is disproportionate by orders of magnitude when compared to the time invested.
So clearly these agrarian pursuits do not a livelihood make, but there remains a deep satisfaction resulting from these activities. In the book, The Other Side of Eden, Hugh Brody explores the characteristics of, and interface between, agricultural and hunter gatherer societies[2]. Born of a farmer society but having lived a large part of his life embedded within hunter gatherer societies, Brody provides an invaluable bridge between the two worlds and allows the farmer a new optic through which to understand himself. While I have not earned the right to be called a farmer per se, I am of a farmer society and think, feel, behave and understand accordingly. Having said all that, what does growing (some) food actually mean? In part it may be a personal pilgrimage and atonement for the errors of
Upon further reflection I think it is more the pace of gardening that I enjoy. Hard work and good weather yields food, one of our most fundamental requirements. Because I am Canadian it would take less time to earn the money to buy this food than it does to grow it. However that is beside the point. The experiences of hard work, uncertainty of outcome, joy of harvest and loss of crops, provide a foothold for understanding how so many others on this planet exist. It puts the idea of nine billion people in a new and valuable perspective. All the issues and complexities of nations, states, sectors, interests and institutions fade away and the human dimension comes forward. Past and future are focussed through the lens of the food that sustains. This leads to a welling up of stewardship from within. Looking up from the garden at this moment is to see the world differently. The air that fills my lungs tastes sweet, the sounds of birds and the feeling of raindrops – the sensory aspects of existence – seem more present and tangible, almost profound.
Leaving the garden and returning to work, the complexity of it all comes rushing back. Our societies are intricate, our achievements are many, and the variety of culture, state and individual are impressive. Food and the farming of food underlie much of this progress, yet ironically the future of food and farming lays at the mercy of its own legacy, as does the future of many of the people who are closest to it.
[1] Our Good Earth, National Geographic Magazine, September 2008, http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/09/soil/mann-text
[2] One online point of information on The Other Side of
