Taking Cover

Now that we have officially edged our way past the autumnal equinox, we can say that we are fully into the farm’s “gathering in” mode. Our attention turns to filling the cooler and the packing shed with the food that will see our family and our farm through the winter. Last week, we harvested 40 bushels of celeriac and 300 bushels of winter squash; this week, 40 bushels of savoy cabbage and 50 additional bushels of squash. Shortly, our attention will turn to red cabbage, beets, and carrots; with a little luck we’ll gather in a crop of winter radishes and turnips as well, although these crops are running a little behind this year due to August’s weather challenges.

At the same time that we gather in, we work hard to finish our fall tillage and cover crop seeding. This time of year is the ideal moment for preparing the soil for next year’s crops by planting the cover crops that will hold the soil in place through show melt-offs, protect against wind that blows it around and robs its moisture, and gather sunlight for no other reason than to give back to the soil. Stray nutrients in the soil are gathered in by the leaves and roots, which do a better job of holding onto them than the soil itself. Incorporated into the soil in the spring or early summer, these nutrients release back into the soil and become available to the next generation of plants. The biomass turns into organic matter, which buffers against moisture fluctuations and holds tightly to soil nutrients.

Throughout the year, we farmers can be a little rough on the soil. We beat it up with rototillers, lift and drop it with our subsoil plow, run tractors over it, slice it up to kill the weeds, pluck the crops from it, and beat it up again to turn what’s left of the crop back in. It’s not that we are trying to do any harm, but we can’t avoid it. Soil conditions are rarely perfect for tilling, planting, weeding, or harvest, and although we do everything with the best of intentions, we are still stirring and cutting, chopping, and compacting the soil. In a perfect world, we could run a market garden with only a spade and digging fork, timing and adjusting our technique and schedule to match perfectly the needs of the soil; or, maybe, the conditions would always perfectly match the needs of the farmer.

Alas, this is not the way of the world. In our relationship with the soil, damage just happens, not due to neglect or abuse, but just due to the way things work. So in the fall, we give back by planting our cover crops to replenish the soil. Sowing seeds of oats and rye, vetch and peas, we salve the wounds, laying a protective cover over naked earth and build the foundation for another year, another chance, another act of faith.