Let Her Fly
It almost always turns out that it’s first crop haymaking time on our farm right about the 4th of July. Making hay when the sun shines is more than a cliche, and when that stretch of dry, sunny weather comes along, it’s time for the blitz to begin.
The day that the bales must all come in off the field is always epic, often working late into the evening to bring in the last few bales or loose hay that didn’t make it into the baler. We have our first crop of hay made into round bales, and if they sit too long in the field, the grass beneath the bale is killed by smothering. No! So, Kara loads them with the skid steer onto hay wagons that Mom and Steve drive into the barnyard for unloading along the slope behind the woodshed, where we stash them for winter’s feeding.
And even then, the task isn’t complete because now it’s time for the post-haying festivities. Pasture and hay grasses are quite a magical ecosystem which, when left untilled, can transform into a biodiverse permaculture. Take any square foot from our hayfields and pastures, and at least a dozen species of plants are living there—from different types of grasses to clovers, wildflowers and more. And underneath the verdure, a handful of the soil contains more microbes than the number of humans that have lived on this planet ever.
Post-haying is a time to feed that ecosystem. With the cutting of the grasses, the pasture plants are sloughing off their longer root hairs to conserve energy and recover. This provides a feast for the microbes, who break down the decaying matter, producing sugars that then feed other microbes and insects while sequestering carbon. This is carbon that has been captured from the air that is now being stored in the soil—a process that offers the greatest carbon banking system for reversing global climate change available.
Post-haying is of course an important time for rain so that the plants don’t get shocky or burn out during their recovery period, and it’s also a great time to add nutritionally rich humus. This mimics what happens in the pasture, where the grasses are clipped by the ruminants (sheep, cows, goats, bison, etc.) that are grazing it. While they graze, they also amply poop on the pasture as well. This poop serves not only to decompose as humus and bring nutrition to the soil, but it also acts as a bolus of microbe boost from the gut flora of the animal. Each of us humans as well as all animals are hosts to more microbes than we have cells in our body—so we are ecosystems too!
Hooves of these grazers trample the manure into the ground, and the amazing regenerative process carries on as the animals move (or are moved by the farmer) onto fresh ground and the grazed area is allowed to regrow.
In a hayfield, where the grass is being harvested and dried for winter feeding, the animals aren’t there to physically do the chomping, pooping, and stomping, so it takes a bit more legwork and far more time than paying a rig to spray NPK on the field and call it good. NPK (nitrogen, potassium, and phosphorous chemical fertilizers) actually burn the microbes and render the soil sterile. It’s the exact opposite of what happens to the flora of the soil when animals are grazing.
On our farm, we have massive compost piles—piles much bigger than our house. These aren’t the kitchen scrap variety (those are all quite happily consumed by the pigs) but are from our deep winter bedding packs from barns and coops. In winter, the animals can’t be out on the pasture because the snow is too deep, so they lounge in the barn eating that hay we stored away for them. Periodically, we cover the bedding with a fresh layer of straw or wood shavings so that the animals are comfortable and not laying in their poop. Layer upon layer this builds up until springtime, when we clean out the barns and haul away the bedding and manure to the compost pile.
The straw and chips are important for the composting process as well, as a right balance of carbon and nitrogen are critical to proper, aerobic decomposition. With time and occasional turning, that deep bedding pack turns into rich, black humus. If this is spread onto the hayfields when the grass is tall, not only will it flatten down the grasses but sometimes the bedding stays on top and gets into the bales! Just after cutting and baling, however, is the perfect time as the grass is now short and there will be plenty of rains to soak in the nutrients before second crop hay is made.
Not only is the compost a nutrient and microbe boost, it can also be a critical fungal inoculation. An increasing number of studies are looking at the complex and critical relationship of fungal rhizomes in the natural world, including their ability to move nutrients and break down toxins. We purposely cultivate this process by using wood shavings in our bedding and placing our compost piles near the edge of the woods, where the fungal spores and rhizomes can easily claim this new territory before being introduced to the pastures and fields.
As we load tons and tons of this black gold into our manure spreaders, it’s a good feeling to know that the process is feeding and healing itself—nourishing and nourished by the animals, plants, soil, microbes, and fungus in our care. Time to load up some more of that beautiful compost and let her fly! See you down on the farm sometime.
