AgriCulture-Life Lessons Learned

We all have habitual thought patterns that we use to make sense of the chaos of the life around us. One of mine, which started as soon as I started cohabiting with farm animals, is a tendency to perceive universal truths about human life embedded in everyday interactions among the creatures of the farm. The skeptic might suggest that I’m simply searching for vehicles to validate my own prejudices and assumptions, rather than finding universal truths based on objectively measured evidence. Maybe. But for me, wherever I look there are “life lessons learned.”

Late Thursday afternoon, after having delivered the evening meal to pigs Possum and Vernon, I was headed back to the house when I saw a raucous chase across the small field south of the pond. One of the pair of Canada geese who annually nest on the island in the middle of the pond chased a large bushy tailed fox across the field and through the fence to the yard of my next door neighbors, Emily and Paul. I called over to Emily, who had been working in the garden on the other side of the fence, to ask if she saw it, and she said she had been enjoying watching that gorgeous fox for some time now.

Beautiful as we agree the fox is, I suspect Emily and I see it quite differently. She, an artist, is focused most on the beauty of the creature itself, and is happy to have it hang around. I, in my farmer mode, am focused on this being the season when foxes are hunting for prey to bring home to feed their newly born young, and I am most anxious that none of my chickens become fox food. I hope Emily’s numerous sightings mean the goose has effectively kept the fox on her side of the fence.

I’ve seen this little goose-fox chase drama play out four times this week. The first time, it stunned me that a bird would take on an animal which seems roughly the same overall size and weight but has teeth and claws that could kill it. But then I remembered the aggressive Chinese geese we once raised, which could easily, with the typical bluster of a bully, chase and intimidate us with noise and the flapping of their powerful wings and the nips they gave when “goosing” us. One such attack led to an emergency room trip for Peter, who slipped in the mud.

It’s been years since either of the Canada geese has charged me, as I think they now know I pose no threat. But they are generally single-minded in protecting their nest and, once the goslings are hatched, their young. At this stage, one of them is perpetually on the nest on the island, while the other seems perpetually on patrol on shore, ready to ward off any predators. They are not being overprotective. Foxes can and do swim to get food.

The life lesson I’ve taken from observing the geese is just how deeply ingrained is the protective instinct in parenting, and how essential is the relentless vigilance of the parents. I don’t think I’d have the commitment to be such an uncompromising bulwark . Maybe something hormonal is triggered when you actually have (or are expecting) offspring which gives you that capacity, but I am relieved that I have not had to test my abilities.

If not a parent, how about unclehood? I look to Orhan, our wether (castrated ram), who serves the non-parental adult role in the herd. The lambs run to their mothers for security when they feel threatened or milk when they are hungry; they run to Orhan to play. I was taken with the vision last week of almost the entire lamb kindergarten scrambling on top of him as he sat sphinx-like in the pasture.

Adorable, but here too I found a life lesson: If the essence of parenthood is relentless protective vigilance, the essence of unclehood appears to be indulgence. Orhan must sit stoically as the nieces and nephews walk all over him. I may have found that fun once, but no thanks. I am relieved that both I and the relevant young ones are past that stage.

Where do I find the life lessons relevant for me in the present? Hard as it is to admit, it’s in seeing my animals age. I spoke a few weeks ago about the “old man pleasures” of Vernon the boar. This week I focused on the tribulations of my frail old ewe, Ayse.

Ayse has been almost completely blind for the last two years. Last summer I frequently had to rescue her as she got separated from the herd, frantically bleated and walked in circles trying to find them. I would lead her by voice to rejoin the others.

This year, such rescues have become far less necessary. It’s not that Ayse is better at staying with the herd. It’s that once separated, she cares less, and tends to just calmly graze on her own. She has accepted a sort of social retraction.

Yesterday morning, Ayse did not come in with the rest of the group for the morning grain treat. I found her in the front pasture, silently lying her on her side, her foot tangled in a fragment of broken down wire fence. I had to use a bolt cutter on the wire segments to free her, but even when freed she seemed unable to stand up.

I lifted her into a wheelbarrow, wheeled her to the barn and placed her in a birthing pen. She seemed calm and comfortable, and her leg seemed intact with normal range of motion, but when I lifted her she still avoided putting weight on the leg and seemed to lack the strength to stand. When two hours later she had not improved, I texted the vet, expecting that we might have to put Ayse down.

Yet when I went back up for evening chores, Ayse was up standing and walking in her normal slow way. It just took her a while to recover. I was relieved, and grateful for the illustration of aging Ayse supplied. Life is going to retract, and I should get comfortable with a diminished social role. It’s going to slow down, and I should accept that too. And just maybe I shouldn’t be too quick to pull the plug, because not every setback reflects a complete failure.

WHAT’S NEW THIS WEEK

Garlic chives, $1.bunch

Sorrel next week

Still ample egg production

WHAT’S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK

Cheese pumpkins, $1/lb

Garlic chives, $1/bunch (flat leafed)

EGGS: production has doubled, feel free to order, $5/doz

FRESH HORSERADISH, $3/lb

MEATS:

CHICKENS: They were quite uniform in size, all just around 6 lbs, a few under. These freedom rangers have been what you want them to be, deeply flavorful. $6/lb, frozen. Separately, bags of chicken livers, also $6/lb.

FARM PICKUPS:

Email us your order at [email protected], and let us know when you’d like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I’m now here full time, we’re abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we’ll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.