Staying Afloat

Now that the grass is growing and all our pastures have plenty of forage, we are setting up grazing paddocks for the summer. Once in place, it’s “just” a matter of keeping the fences electrified and predators away. Moving the sheep daily at Hill-Stead and weekly at Mountain Spring will help keep the grass in a constant vegetative state.

If we allowed the sheep to continuously graze an area, they’d eat all their favorite plants, like clover, down to the ground. As soon as the clover starts to regrow, they would immediately eat it down to the ground again. Deprived of its solar panels (leaves) to make more energy, the clover would eventually run out of reserves and just give up. Not letting the sheep take that “second bite” until the plant is fully recovered is one of the goals of rotational grazing. Grass is one of the few plants that can withstand the abuse of constant grazing (or mowing). If we let the sheep continuously graze, we’d end up with a field of just grass, which is fine, but a mixture of grass and clover is even better.

Clover, like other legumes, pulls nitrogen out of the air and stores it in the soil where grass and other plants can utilize it just like a synthetic fertilizer. Clover is also a favorite of honeybees, which alone is enough for me to nurture it – free fertilizer is just an added bonus.

Before any herbivores were domesticated, they would graze an area until the predators showed up and chased them off. They were therefore constantly on the move. Now, without predators in our pastures (hopefully), it’s up to the farmer to move them. That’s how the planet evolved, and it works pretty well.

Soon, we’ll have everyone on pasture, and our bottle-fed lambs will all be weaned. Life already feels relatively saner.  I did, however, spend 3 hours the other night trying to separate a very pregnant sow from the other pigs so she could have her piglets in what I thought was the perfect spot. There is nothing sane about arguing with a pig. She clearly had other plans - and ultimately, she won. Thoroughly defeated and annoyed, I watched the sun set on the horizon and tried to soak in everything else that was perfect around me. Our hens, who are finally starting to lay again, clucked, and fussed as they all settled in for the night. The chimney swifts, having just returned for the summer, darted and chattered overhead. Oh, how I love that sound! The dogs sat patiently outside the pasture gate waiting for me to finish up and call it a night.  Life is good! Indeed, it is unfairly so.

I wrote Nataliia, in Ukraine, and said as much. I told her that I was overwhelmed with the peace that surrounds me and the knowledge that she and I are on opposite ends of that spectrum due to nothing but the luck of the draw and where we were each born. I wrote that I think of her and her family often and hope that she too “will soon be overwhelmed with peace.”  She thanked me and said that she heard from her husband that day and that he is still alive – “hearing his voice, seeing springtime flowers and the children keep me afloat.”

There - but for the grace of random chance - go I.