The Birds are Back
BETWEEN TWO HILLS
“It’s so peaceful here.”
This is perhaps the most frequent comment we get from customers and visitors alike as they step out of their cars and the soles of their shoes hit the grass of our farm. There is a nervous system adjustment that happens as our bodies go from a world of high speed tin cans on wheels to a world of grass, birds, and bugs. The contrast is stark and still feels sudden even to me when arriving onto the land I call home. It certainly is peaceful here. The farm speaks for itself.
Only a few miles from the Taconic Parkway, something about the hills we're nestled between creates a shockingly quiet farmscape relative to how close we are to commerce. The quiet, though often overshadowed by the business of my own mind, is what I look forward to the most when getting up before the sun.
Yet amidst all of this morning quiet is all the noise. Not cars. Not cell phones. Not the hustle and bustle of people, but rather the hum of all the wildlife that’s found its way to our little haven here between two hills. Being our second full year here on the farm, we are beginning to see the efforts of our ecological stewardship come to fruition. Not only can we see it, but we can hear it.
OUR ANGELIC COMPANY
Every morning as the light of the approaching sun pierces its way through the darkness of night, the chorus that greets all the farm’s inhabitants begins slowly and ends its gradual crescendo at sunrise; a daily event that seems louder this year than the last– which is something I hope to be able to say every year. The distinct chatter between turtle doves, the sparrows chirping toward one another while cardinals plead for the sun to present itself, all melt into one another to become one magnificently unified orchestra, as the prologue to another day under the sun.
Accompanied by such a blessed tune, I religiously arrive at the cattle in the morning to see the cloud of fighter jets otherwise known as tree swallows working in full force to combat the flies that naturally accompany the herd wherever they go. Yet now, thanks to our management and a little bit of patience, you will rarely see more than just a few flies on any of our cows.
That is because this fleet of angelic military jets accompanying them at any given time is dedicated to caring for these beasts of the field. There is always a happy flock of birds floating about with the herd. Their perpetual presence is so much so that one might think we also raise these birds here, along with our cattle and pigs. The reality is, we didn’t choose them, they chose us.
TOXINS AT THE TOP
When cattle are managed in a natural grazing pattern, their natural companions find a way to assist them in their good work of restoration. There is no such thing as a fly problem, only a lack of predator problem. Flies, unfortunately, are extremely resilient little buggers. They can withstand an amazing amount of toxin exposure and still thrive. Hence their presence in dumps and other toxic wastelands. However, their predators cannot withstand the same amount of burden on their livers and kidneys. This is a common effect of metals and other toxins in any predator population.
It's the same reason why tuna fish has such a high mercury content compared to sardines– the toxin load bioaccumulates more overtime in animals that are higher on the food chain. This is why the little fly can eat aluminum-ridden feces all day, but the swallows and bats bold enough to find them don’t last long. As they feast upon the contaminated flies, the burden on their own systems often becomes too great to bear. They either die, or wise up and find a better place to be.
For this reason both cows and flies are able to survive in somewhat toxic environments together as they’re both low men on the totem pole. However, their beloved guardian angels don’t join them in these contexts. Which is why feedlots often apply insecticides on a regular basis to their livestock. They must, lest the cattle be taken over by insects with no symbiotic species present to ease the load-- the cows can quite literally be covered head to toe.
Thanks to our completely hands off approach to chemical interventions, our cow's manure is clean and digestible, leading to healthier flies and happier birds; a win for all those involved.
LESS IS MORE
When we follow the principles laid out in front of us in the book of nature, we find simplicity in solutions. It is often subtraction rather than addition that brings greater ecological abundance. We anticipate and look forward to an ever growing population of birds here; an increasingly “loud” farm filled with fewer engines and more songs.
Though we have meetings and spreadsheets like every other business must in order to exist, the primary work of the farmer in the field is that of an orchestral director. His cows are his players but the symphony and harmony that results is not simply mechanical-- it transcends the sum of its parts. Just as the song of our farm continues to grow louder each season, we hope that the sounds that echo across our acreage will continue long after we’re gone. We have limitless potential, the only factor being time.
While our song, for the most part, is that of the birds who choose to spend their days here alongside our cattle, there is no one reason for the serenity of our farm. It is rather a multiplication of all the diversity that echoes across the hills and ravines. There is a level of harmony we’re beginning to hear; a song unwritten by us or the birds themselves.
The birds are back, and we’re excited to see who will join us next.