Articles: January 2010, February 2010, March 2010, April 2010

     As a young farmer and engineering graduate I never pictured myself having such a strong desire to write. There is no proof that I exhibit a writing style that is attractive or makes a bit of sense to an outside reader. I actually imagine it's quite horrible for I have never been good at grammar, let alone have any stunning word choices in the spider webs of my creative brain. Yet there is something about writing, and those that have inspired me to consider the hobby, that has stuck in my consciousness. Perhaps it's the thought of having all my thoughts recorded and organized, which is quite nice from an engineer’s perspective. The question is whether I can portray those thoughts in an aesthetic nature. If not, I know at least Mrs. Hobbs would be happy.

Photagraph taken by the lovely Chloe Hollis

     “Gardner Greats” will be my reflections at the end of each month of the good things in life about being a professional gardener. Even though I have only reached the apprenticeship level, I hope that these thoughts would relate to those with shared gardening experiences...

April was about the time last year that Wendell Berry first fell into my hands. The book was a compilation of essays, mostly about humans relationships  with themselves and their natural environment. One particular essay, in which the book concluded with,  illustrated his experience in raising a sustainable farm amongst the hills of Kentucky.  He appropriately described how each ecological partition, on his property, was different due to its geological characteristics. Then reflected upon how that respectively effected the lands agricultural capability. His goal was to farm what the land gave him, and not by what was most industrially efficient. This was indeed a noble goal, but also an aged old one.

I have just begun another compilation  of Wendell Berry that expands on that last essay, as it is unique to the subjects of farming and food. While he often dwells on the mishaps and thoughtlessness of industrial agriculture,  he doesn’t neglect to reminds us of what the beauty of small farms has to offer.

He reminds us that agriculture should not follow the basic routine that has been entrenched into our minds by the industrial revolution. That nature withholds a myriad of complex systems, which if studied correctly, can be used in the most effective and beneficial manner. That our creator, whomever you may call it, has designed the most difficult, intricate and intrinsic puzzle imaginable. That a sustainable system (one that runs indefinitely by being in tune with natural and societal means) is possible if the puzzle is approached appropriately. And finally that, “good food comes from good farmers” and not from agribusiness. 

April is a month where a lot of puzzle pieces are discovered, but many still remain hidden. Mistakes are revealed, whether it is from conservative planning or just plain natural law. However, with mistakes comes experience and aptitude.  There are still a lot of Aprils out there and I look forward to trying again with gained knowledge.  I may be 85 when it happens, but one day I will have my puzzle complete.

Until May,

Bean