The weather forecast isn't calling for rain during our farm days this week, but I'm skeptical since it wasn't supposed to rain this weekend either and we've had rain every day. Argh! We really need it to dry up so we can till in some cover crops and get soil ready for planting. This weather is also perfect for fungal pathogens like apple scab and brown rot spores to spread in the orchard and unfortunately both of the small tractors that we use to put on preventative sprays to keep the spores in check are broken down. (One of the reasons I prefer not to rely on mechanized equipment--you spend half your time fixing it!)
Whether it rains or not, it's still going to be pretty soggy out here on Tuesday and Wednesday so we won't plan to do more planting this week. Instead, we will be working with our beehive on Tuesday. (Wednesday people, I'm kind of expecting not to see you due to a potential DOGL! But never fear, we will find another time for you to see into the hive if you want to.) Please note: If you are uncomfortable with bees, there is no requirement for you to get near the hive. If you would like to get close to the hives, please wear clothing that will protect you from possible stings. Light-colored, loose fitting clothes with long sleeves and long pant-legs are best. Close-toed shoes or boots are also good.
I'm sure many of you have heard that honeybees are struggling these days. Actually, it's not just honeybees (which aren't native to North America); our native bees (and other pollinators) are having difficulty thriving as well. There's been a lot of research and speculation about Colony Collapse Disorder, but this TED talk by Marla Spivak sums up most clearly my understanding of what it is we're doing that's harming the bees (and ourselves too): http://www.ted.com/talks/marla_spivak_why_bees_are_disappearing
Pretty cool, huh? The honeybee gets a lot of the publicity because of its sexy habit of making candy for us out of flower-water, but as I mentioned above, there are lots of cool native bee species in Michigan as well. This pdf from Michigan State University has photos, as well as tips for helping out our native bees: http://www.canr.msu.edu/nativeplants/uploads/files/E2985ConservingNativeBees.pdf.
Last week the Wednesday group helped us initiate the fruiting process in a few of our mushroom logs. We bought the Shiitake mushroom spawn we inoculated the logs with from Paul Stamets' company "Fungi Perfecti". Stamets is doing some super-interesting work with mushrooms, including studying how mushrooms might help bolster bee colony health: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAw_Zzge49c. (The connection with honeybees starts at 9:23. Even if you get bogged down in the science-y middle part of this talk, make sure you watch the last five minutes or so for some really gorgeous shots of mushroom growth and inspiring words.)
Early in his talk, Stamets talks about how networks of mycelium pass messages between plants that help them to survive. From the PBS honeybee video you can see that bees, also, have sophisticated languages. Near the end of his talk, Stamets says, "The task that we face today is to understand the language of Nature." I'd like to hear your thoughts in response to this idea that in order for our species to survive, we need to learn to communicate with the other species with whom we share this planet and to learn from them. Does this seem like a far-fetched idea to you or something that's within the realm of possibility? What experiences of communicating with non-human parts of this world have you had in your own life? How might you go about initiating or deepening such communication?
The idea of communicating with nature does not strike me as particularly strange or revolutionary. Humanity has gone to great lengths to delude ourselves into thinking there is some arbitrary dividing line between us and the rest of the animal kingdom, either through divine providence marking us as the rulers of beasts, or our capacity to understand our physical world through science and technology. At the end of the day, we're just scaled up versions of our mammal kin. I don't see any reason why, if other mammals communicate with their environment, or alternatively, listen to their environment, that we can't too. I believe it simply comes down to the willingness and aptitude to understand the synesthetic messaging apparatus that we have fallen out of touch with.
ReplyDeleteI believe we're still sensitive to this unspoken language, we simply don't recognize it for what it is. I'm sure everyone in this class has had a moment, in nature or not, where they have had a deep sense of foreboding, of something "wrong". Maybe the birds have gone quiet, or taken flight, the wind has shifted and we've picked up some tiny scent, or we've seen a flicker of movement in the corner of our eye. This is the last remnant of our primal psyche, still attempting to reach out and save our shared corporeal form, despite being walled off from most of conscious activity. How is this any different from a herd of zebra at a watering hole, or a plant sending stress signals through an underground network?
In order to deepen this communication, I believe we must engulf ourselves in our physical surroundings, and listen to the language of nature.
I think in order to cohesively cohabitate the same space/land as nature, communication is always the most important factor. The language of nature is something that is so unfamiliar to many, that many may be overwhelmed or unwilling to learn it. In the beginning of the TED talk, Marla Spivak speaks of communities that have no native pollinators so they pollinate the plants themselves by painting on the pollen from plant to plant. This blew my mind. Although she says it is pretty common for this to happen, I have never heard of it. This seems like a good way of listening to the language of nature, because instead of bringing in non-native species (like the United States has done) to pollinate in an area they don't naturally pollinate in, the farmers take the matter into their own hands and assist the plants. I think it's pretty revolutionary to create a tool that acts as a bumble bee and is able to vibrate the tomato plant at the same frequency to ensure proper pollination. This all seems kind of artificial to me, but I think if we really communicate and listen to the language of nature and use scientific advances to assist and not intrude upon nature as well as planting species that are native to the land, that would be the greatest outcome.
ReplyDeleteThe other day I was drawn up to the flowering dogwood tree on the side of the street outside my house. As I got close I realized that the tree was abuzz with the commotion of insects. Bees, both Bumble and Honey, and flies of various shapes and sizes were swarming the tree. The next day when I returned there were a few gleaners left, but the crop had primarily been collected the day before.
ReplyDeleteI was amazed by how many bees could congregate, feed outside my house for a single day, and then be gone to another tree by the next day. For those who don't own hives or grow fruits, bees operate like scouts. They are always near, but rarely let themselves be known. Through the long winter they are forgotten cohabiters, but they emerge in the spring to remind us of their tenacity and ingenuity—their ability to continue to survive in the seemingly bleak urban environment.
Why don't I send my thoughts to the bees through the winter? I don't know; maybe I should start to... I'm sure those who keep bees pray for their safety and warmth throughout the winter, but as someone who doesn't consciously entwine my life-pattern with the bees it isn't something that comes to mind immediately. I think that this is how our modern lack of communication with nature functions. While our societies are still grounded in the productivity of our interactions with the non-human world, the members of these societies are having less interaction with the natural world than ever before. This lack of interaction leads to a lack of focus; people will focus on the elements that are most relevant to their lives, which isn't bad; it's natural. But, in the technological organization of our society, it causes people to become estranged from the world on which their lives are supported. Therefore, I think that a lack of communication with non-human actors is predicated by a lack of focus and intention. Before plants and animals can be communicated with they must be treated with humble, focused attention. Communication with plants and animals isn't just about learning a language, but also relies on sustained interaction with the openness to listen.
With the pace of life, and the many specialized paths that draw people away from everyday connection with nature, communicating with nature can seem fanciful and impractical. However, with ecological collapse on the horizon, I think that it is important, now more than ever, to rekindle the ecological relationships that our ancestors had. I think that our human relationships could benefit as well from the humble patience that reclaiming our ancestral knowledge would require. When I was young I went out into the woods everyday for over two years to sit in the same place and let my awareness meld with the world around me. While I tried to start this practice back up at school last year, I lacked the discipline to maintain sitspot as a routine alongside the constant requirements of schoolwork. Looking forward, however, I strive to cultivate the self-discipline to keep up such practices while also meeting the requirements of my daily life.
The idea that we need to strive to understand the language of nature is not a far-fetched idea at all to me. I’ve always believed that nature is, and always will be more intricate than we can ever comprehend. Like Stamets says, the fact that we lack the language skills to communicate with nature does not impugn nature’s intelligence; it only speaks to human inadequacy. I also believe that humans need the earth to survive, but the earth does not need us to survive—it has existed long before we did and will continue existing long after we’re gone, in some form.
ReplyDeleteFurthermore, although I believe in the importance of learning with and from other species, I don’t believe it’s possible with our current cultural (Western) ideas toward nature. We have severed nature from our livelihood; we have turned it into an enemy to abuse and defeat. Until we can shift our own ideas about the earth that do not involve apathy, disconnection, and corporate greed, we will not be able to save ourselves. I believe science (when done with good moral intentions) is one way that we can begin to understand the language of nature. Zoology is another way, as animals have been utilizing nature in innovative ways for centuries (ex. bees using resin as an antibiotic agent in their hives, from Spivak’s Ted Talk). Indigenous knowledge is another way, as indigenous people have long known what scientists are discovering (ex. medicinal uses and communication of plants). Finally, I see religion, specifically earth-based religions, as another way that we can begin to understand the language of nature. I may initiate my own understanding by studying any of the aforementioned topics.
The role in which bees take part within our ecosystem is very essential. I have heard through others how we need the survival of bees for our production of food. In the TED talk, Marla Spivak brought up how there is a 300% increase of crop production requires bees pollination. It is crazy to know how we human beings are not listening to what the bees want. In a anthropocentric society, we only consider what benefits us, and ignore what other living and non-living things in our world want. Even if we were to enforce policies that can help the survival of bees, we still seek for a greater aid from them. This topic is connected to earlier discussions on how farming practices are changing. I would love to learn how to communicate with my surrounds. I think it is beautiful trait that Amy is able to tell when her plants need nurturing from her. I would like to be able to understand the language of nature and remove myself from my conscious on how I will benefit from it.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that the idea of communication with nature is a far fetched idea; I don't even think we are as removed from this communication as we may think. What I think can be said is that we don't recognize this communication for what it is, or fail to recognize it when it occurs. Science, especially natural history (just being out in nature, observing and thinking about what's happening) seems like the best way to re-learn how we might communicate with nature.
ReplyDeleteAs an example that is particularly fresh in my mind, I think this can be seen even in something as simple as catching frogs. For my ecology class we were sent to Batts pond, just to look around and find something to research. Of course, this pretty quickly turned into a bunch of us catching frogs, and doing not much else. I noticed pretty quick that some of us caught many frogs, and some of us had little luck, and that there were 2 big skills that separated the two groups: spotting frogs before they would flee (as well as knowing where to look), and the actual process of capturing a frog. Some of us were keyed in to the do's and don't's of this process, and some of us weren't. Even in something as simple as this, I think it became evident which students were paying attention to the cues and patterns present in the Batts Pond ecosystem, and in this way understanding the language of nature at that particular location.
After living about a year with three cats, each with their own distinct personalities, I say that this idea is not far-fetched at all. Sometimes it feels as though nature is desperately trying to communicate us, trying to make it as obvious as it can, but we won't pick uo the phone. Each of my cats have their own ways of interacting with me. They know how to get what they want from me and the different means of communication they need to use to get certain items or treatment from me: meowing in different tones, volumes, and rhythms; hissing; rolling on their backs; facial expressions and eyes; tail movements. These all mean different things and typically I understand their attitudes or requests accurately. These means of communication generally mean the same things for each of them, but some have a different meaning depending on the cat. I may sound crazy, but I'm sure other cat owners agree with me!
ReplyDeleteThat's one form I see it clearly. Another way one could perhaps initiate or deepen their communication with nature would be through mindfulness and meditation. Focusing on your breathing, not clearing your mind but being passive to your thoughts, and being conscious of your body, mind and surroundings helps one perhaps put some of the diffulcities of communicating with nature aside. Being in tune with yourself and surroundings, a long with not using language but feeling, means you're acting and being in a way that is closer to non-humans.
I definitely do not think that the idea of communicating with nature is far-fetched. Just from my experience living with a dog for a large part of my life, I feel like we communicate with nature more than we think. When I'm at home, my dog is probably the one I communicate with most, as we have developed our own ways in communicating with one another. I can always tell when he wants certain things, like more food or water, to go outside, to go for a walk, or for me to pet him. He also always seems to know what kind of mood I'm in. When I'm happy or sad, he often wants/gives more attention, and if I seem tired, he often wants to cuddle up next to me to go to sleep. To this day, the way in which he reads, reacts, and interacts with me and other people really amazes me. Therefore, I feel like this kind of communication can exist with other parts of nature as well, and I think this could really help us to learn more about the world around us.
ReplyDeleteTo an extent, it think this kind of communication does already exist. One thing that has really amazed me since the start of this class is how Amy and John are able to read their plants to see how healthy they are, if they need more watering, sunlight, etc. Many times on our farm days, I have seen them communicate with their crops in a way and determine their needs. The fact two-way relationship that exists between them and the plants they grow is really beautiful. I think that this kind of relationship with animals, plants, and nature overall can and needs to exist as we are facing climate change and other ecological changes in our world, and I think we as a species need to decenter ourselves when we think about the world. The world does not revolve around us, and yet, this is very much the view that many of us have. By not thinking of ourselves as center, it allows the importance of all of the many species that exist on this earth to be realized and shows how the actions of us all effect the overall condition of the earth.
I agree with the above commenters that communicating with nature seems like a reasonable, and necessary, idea. Learning about the different 'cues' that plants give when they are suffering from nutrient deficiency, for example, made it clear to me that farmers can learn to read certain needs of plants but also that some needs are coded (the characteristics are often the same for nutrient deficits and nutrient excesses, making it difficult to tell which is the problem just by looking). I love the idea of 'growing with' the land: learning about it almost accidentally, through observation rather than isolated experiments. I love that so much can be learned about companion planting just by observing pairings of different plants, for instance, and I actually kind of like that those same conclusions can be difficult to represent in greenhouse experiments. I think that this speaks to the necessity of recognizing our impact on nature and also what it is trying to tell us.
ReplyDeleteThis summer I had the opportunity to do some research on the dunes of Beaver Island with Binney. Though I loved the 'hard science' data collection, my favorite part was just spending hours watching Painted Lady caterpillars spin webs and devour thistle leaves, recording their behavior and sketching their images. Being a 'full-time naturalist' for a few weeks gave me a new perspective about observing nature, because it was much more of a conversation than I had expected. My role went beyond being in tune with my own body, making sure that I didn't scare away the caterpillars or accidentally step on the plants; it continued into being in tune with my surroundings in their entirety, listening to the wind, observing weather patterns, trying to put myself in the 'shoes' of the dune critters so that I could have a better sense of the different aspects of the dune that influence their lives. I think there is a lot to be learned from nature that we can use to develop more efficient and sustainable technology, such as solar panels that mimic the photosynthesis of leaves, but I also think that it is important to acknowledge that we need to preserve nature in all of its interconnectedness (e.g. ecosystems, not just organisms) if we want to continue listening to what it is telling us.
I think understanding the language of Nature is possible, and takes stepping off the pedestal people often place themselves on as being higher than other animals and disconnected from the environment. Part of this is that we have literally built walls between us and nature, creating our own ecosystems inside these buildings (with heat and AC, fridges full of food and families).
ReplyDeleteIn order to connect I think it is important to spend more time in nature, observing, admiring, and learning form the natural environment. I feel very fortunate to have spent the an entire year pretty much living outside. 4 months of this year were spent hiking throughout the West coast of the U.S. walking through the different ecosystems. As a passerby I admired and tread lightly on the places I went through, and became to feel a part of the trail. I took water from the streams we passed through, ate food, and disposed of waste in the environment. I left only natural things behind, and took only what I needed (mostly just water, and space to sleep on). The fellow hikers I did this with did the same as well, and we were a community who lived in the environment of the trail - in the scorching heat, or incredibly windy days. After living outside for so long I feel appreciative towards the building we have created - AC, heat, shelter from wind and rain is nice, but I also feel a longing to be outside in the fresh air and wide open spaces. In the city I can feel the buildings, and everybody's different energies bouncing off the hard walls. In nature energy dissipates out. In the woods I can feel the trees, and hear the birds, and watch as ecosystems interact, which is a magical thing.
I think spending more time in nature is such a connecting experience, to the trees, fellow animals, and fellow people. LandSea is another example of this where a group of people, who might never be friends at K, live together and create a community in nature.
I believe that it is necessary for humans to develop good communication with all other plants and animals around us. I grew up farming bees along with some other animals and I speak from experience when I say that the depth of a relationship with these animals had a huge impact upon my life and I'm sure on theirs too. My relationship with the animals that I cared for started as professional but turned into more of a friendship built on honesty and respect. I have always felt a strong connection with nature and I am grateful for this. I believe that the best way to initiate/deepen communication with nature is to immerse yourself in the care for plants and animals. There are only so many lessons one can learn by watching, instead I urge you to consider learning by interacting with nature.
ReplyDelete