HappyDay: Throwing Shade…

Casey O’Neill is a cannabis and food farmer in Mendocino County who has been writing newsletters about his efforts to provide sustainable produce and marijuana. We feature his column once a week.

Sometimes it amazes me how much can get done in the course of a year.  When I take the time to pick my head up and look at all of the effort it feels good to realize the improvements and to look at the larger direction of the farm.  From new hoops and bed space to better wash-pack and more shade, this has been a year of refinements and clear steps towards the operation that I want to have.

     Shade cloth factors big in the current work plan, serving to keep heat off of animals, the salad mix tunnel, the wash-pack area and the cannabis drying sheds.  I love the durable nature of the heavy duty shade cloth, some pieces I’ve had for almost 10 years and still work great.

      The lettuce tunnel has a single length of the super light-duty 30% reduction of sunlight, while at the other end of the spectrum the wash-pack area has a triple layer of the heavier-duty 70% cloth.  I make sure that the cloth is separated by an air gap from whatever it is covering, to reduce transmission of heat and increase cooling airflow.

      I’m attaching to the fascia boards of structures with the hex screws with washers, and also cabling to eye hooks with small turnbuckles in places that I need to stretch the cloth out horizontally.  Hanging from the fascia board and attached to t-posts set out a few feet from a structure, I can create shade and space to cool the south and west sides of buildings, which heat up so much this time of year that they radiate heat back all night.

     Animal shade structures are simple A-frames on a square base built out of EMT metal conduit coupled and joined with a variety of fittings, plumbers tape and self-tapping screws.   They are durable but light and I can move them by hand without equipment.  If I want them to hold snow load in the winter I have to prop them up with 2×4’s under the conduit ridgeline.

       Each year I refine my animal management practices, trying to do a better job and become more efficient as I gain clarity of goals and knowledge of practice.  I find myself becoming faster at the tasks, moving the electric netting or mobile structures and feeding/watering.  I enjoy working with livestock but it can also be draining because of the constancy of the work.

      This week we slaughtered the last of the meat birds, filling the freezers in preparation for the year ahead.  Two weeks ago we ate the last bird left from our efforts the year before, a continuing cycle of husbandry and nourishment that drives me both physically and psychologically.

     The farm is governed and made up of by a series of overlapping cycles.  Shorter loops of crops or animal production sync with broader sets of management and natural forces.  The Spirits of Time Rotation provide the cadence and backdrop and the scene unfolds.

      My life is infinite in the moment yet a tiny blip in the larger sense.  Though it is everything to me, it is little in the cosmic totality, and I enjoy the sense of acceptance that comes from this understanding.  I reflect on the cycles that I set in motion, and the intentions that I bring to the work.  I appreciate the successes and try to learn from the failures, refining my actions to become better at my craft.

      A willingness to be reflexive and take a hard look at my methods is essential for learning to farm.  Evolving my methods by gathering new input and being open to change makes room for better, more efficient production.  The flow that this achieves feels good, and the work proceeds with greater ease, though the effort is still maximal.

      This is the exhaustion time of year, when the long days and heat make it hard to continue.  I put one foot in front of the other, moving at a slower pace during the heat of the day but going forward with the effort nonetheless.  We have crossed the threshold and are into the downturn now, the days noticeably shorter and the animal chores lessening.   I find my thoughts turning to cool, wet, winter days, when I can read, dream and plan for another season.

      Though we are now in the thick of the current journey, the kernel of hope for future seasons is a guiding light.  The goal of adaptation to change is a way of sharpening the blade, learning and refining over time.  As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!