Relating to that which is out of our control
Farming is risky and very little is actually in a farmer's control, especially with winter farming. By surrendering control and working with nature, that's where the real growth can be found.
I think my favorite question to ask farmers on my Winter Growers Podcast is, “How do you relate to that which is out of your control?” This specific question came about when I was brainstorming with a friend a list of Lightning Round questions to ask farmers at the end each conversation. My Lightning Round consists of 10 questions, selected by the farmers from a list of 20 before the interview, and the questions cover a wide range of topics from, “Favorite crop to grow, cook or eat” to “How do you turn off farming? Or can you/do you?” to “What do you feel is your gift to give on behalf of people and the land?” Admittedly, my questions are not always quick to answer and I often joke with my guests that it is a “Slow Lightning Round”, which sounds pretty ridiculous and I should really come up with a better name. Any suggestions? For this ‘how do you relate to that which is out of your control’ question, the responses generally vary from some type of honesty/humility, “Not well” to optimism/positivity, “I use it as a learning opportunity for growth!” to flat out delusion/denial, “Who says I’m not in control?” and everything else in between.
I think most people can agree that farming is inherently risky, and since everything is highly dependent on weather and the natural world, very little is in a farmer’s control. For example, that perfect and delicious vine-ripened heirloom tomato from the farmer’s market in August? In the Northeast, the seed for that tomato plant was most likely germinated in a climate-controlled greenhouse in February or March, grown and nurtured in potting soil while being monitored daily, transplanted into a high tunnel in April or May, and then irrigated, weeded, trellised, pruned, fertilized, and meticulously managed, until finally a vine-ripened tomato is ready for harvest and sale in July or August. At any point along that five-month process, multiple things can go wrong, even within the more controlled environments of greenhouses and protective growing structures. From a propane tank running out unexpectedly overnight and causing the seedlings to freeze, or too much heat damaging the plants from not ventilating the high tunnel soon enough, or a new seasonal employee mistakenly pruning off the growing tip of the tomato plant, or blossom end rot, or late blight, or tomato hornworms or even pesky red squirrels nibbling on the fruit… and the list goes on with hundreds of different variations to the above. The more experienced the farmer, the easier it is to mitigate these risks, but even the most accomplished farmer can be taken by surprise and humbled by the unexpected. Especially with the increasing effects of climate change.
When it comes to winter farming, the stakes are even higher. Imagine a freshly harvested carrot in January in the Northeast - it seems highly unlikely, but as a four season farmer using techniques pioneered by my father, it is possible, and certainly worth it, with careful planning and protection. The fast maturing varieties of carrots such as Mokum and Napoli bred for their sweetness work best because it is the decreasing daylight, by an average of 1 minute per day at the 44th parallel between the Summer Solstice in June and the Winter Solstice in December, that becomes the limiting factor to growth and maturity, more than the decreasing colder temperatures. In order for this winter magic trick to work, the carrots must be sown in tight rows by late August, then irrigated and cultivated regularly to avoid weed competition until the carrots mature in November, at which point the weather becomes too harsh and the plants need protection from the elements. A moveable high tunnel, that can be rolled or slid over the carrot beds and anchored in place, is the best method for providing external protection, plus inner layers of lightweight polypropylene fabric, known as floating row covers, that confer some frost protection and allow light and water to permeate, and are suspended over the carrot beds with metal wires or hoops. These carrots are now tucked in for the winter months, resting in a type of cold storage structure, ready to be harvested from the ground as fresh carrots with trimmed green tops throughout the winter. But what makes them so unique is not just that they are harvested in winter, it’s their flavor - as soil temperatures drop and winter descends, the starches in the carrot roots convert to sugars, similar to an anti-freeze effect, and the carrots become sweeter and crunchier, affectionately known as ‘candy carrots’ by any kid who has ever tasted one.
This is only a snapshot, however, of when things go perfectly according to plan. But in real life farming, there is always one issue to manage after another and it often feels exhausting as a farmer trying to hold all of the variables together, and even more foolish holding tightly to the belief that somehow this process can be controlled. One winter a few years ago during a Polar Vortex, the nighttime temperatures dropped below 0 degrees Fahrenheit for a week straight and the daytime temps never went above freezing from consistent cloudy and overcast skies. Not a good combination for harvesting carrots from an unheated high tunnel. The ground would be too frozen and the tops and shoulders on the carrots would become increasingly damaged over an extended cold period. We needed to harvest carrots for an upcoming Saturday winter farmer’s market and so my father and I retrieved from storage two portable torpedo propane heaters to run inside the high tunnel for 24 hours prior to harvest. It was a sad and insufficient attempt to raise the ambient air temperature high enough to soften the ground ever so slightly. As we chiseled away at frozen ground with our digging forks, barely unearthing a handful of carrots and our fingers aching from the cold, my father looked up at me and said, “Well, I think it’s time for a glass of wine.” I knew in that moment this wasn’t his way of giving up - instead, it was a graceful surrender to that which was out of his control. If any farmer had learned anything about relating to control, it was him over the last 50 years of farming. And, whether he liked to admit his lack of control or not, he was always willing to find creative ways to work with nature, not against it.
The following week, the sun came out and the temperatures rose above freezing again, and carrot harvesting was back on track, although now many of the tops and shoulders of the carrots were cold damaged as expected. With some extra time spent in the wash/pack house cutting away the damaged tops and bagging the carrots for sale at market, the issue was mostly resolved. And when an unfamiliar customer at the farmer’s market inquired about the new packaging of the candy carrots without their tops, I just smiled and said that we had decided to do all of the hard prep work for them. And the customer’s face immediately lit up and they bought not just one, but five bags of carrots for the week. What had once been out of my control, became a creative opportunity for new marketing and sales, and much needed personal growth for me as a winter farmer, too.
To learn more about winter farmers and year-round farming, listen to the Winter Growers Podcast wherever you listen to podcasts or on the No-Till Growers Network. Season 5 is set to release in June 2024.