Listen to the Song in the Audio ↑
Read the Story Behind the Song ↓
A couple weeks ago, I stood at the edge of an impenetrable wall of weeds with the dismal doom of defeat that arrives prematurely anytime overwhelm sucks the hope out of me. The itchy and sharp blade grasses had grown many inches taller than me, and were woven together with the heart-shaped leaves of vines whose friendly face is just a facade for entanglement. I had naively thought that I would be able to weed-whack my way through the dense patch of grass, but the vines wouldn’t allow that. Even with the full gas-guzzling power of this weed-whacker (which we generally reserve for the really rough stuff), within seconds, the blades were tangled up.
Horrified at the harsh reality that faced me, a grassy sea of itchy irritation with no machine to save me, I found myself in a fight-or-flight mentality: Did we really need a forest here? Was it worth all that we’d endure? If so, why not just pull out the hard-hitters and douse it with chemicals that some call the lesser? I know plenty of environmental restoration efforts that do this all the time; between a rock and a hard place, who draws the line?
Debilitatingly overwhelmed, there was nothing I could do but to take a step back and rethink my next steps. But, first, I had to remember what I getting at:
The 5-acres that I’ve been supporting for the last 7 months is zoned as agricultural land, but had been left fallow for years after having been clear-cut for grazing cattle. Prior to the cattle-operation, it had been a food-forest that was tended by native people.
But, by the time that the current owner arrived to caretake the land, the landscape had become dominated by weed-trees that choked out healthy biodiversity. This is a common occurrence after cattle-grazing as the space that’s left behind is prime real-estate for invasive plants that thrive in disturbed soils, but cause native plants to struggle.
To better understand how this happens, let’s get a little nerdy:
Ecological Succession
From the time that new land is formed (from glacier retreats or volcanoes, for example), plants and animals slowly begin to grow in a series of phases that happen over hundreds of years. Each phase of development is populated by different communities of species that thrive in the conditions of that phase. Some of the conditional differences are the amounts of soil, nutrients, water, and sun (or shade) that’s available at that phase. The transition from different communities of species as conditions change is called ecological succession1. Here’s an overview of how this succession generally goes down:
It starts in barren environments with just a few plants (such as mosses) that are adapted to the barren conditions. These conditions include no shade from other plants and very little soil (which also means very little water as soil is needed to hold it).
Then, over long periods of time, these initial plants create soil as their roots break up the rock and their decomposing matter builds up. With this new soil, new plants are able to grow with more nutrients, more water-holding capacity, and more bugs in the soil to aid in the process of decomposition. At this stage, however, there’s still not very much shade (except by tall grasses).
But, eventually, these new plants make even more soil that has even better water-holding capacity. More soil then attracts more bugs, which then attracts more animals to eat the bugs, whose poop then contributes to even more fertile soil.
Again, with more soil, water, and shade from this new population, you guessed it: bigger plants start to grow, such as small trees and bushes. These small trees and bushes then create even more habitat for more animals, who bring new seeds with them (that have gotten stuck to their fur or that come out in their poop). These new seeds create even more diversity, especially as they’re provided with more diverse conditions in the environment to support them: places with and without shade, and places with richer and moister soil.
Then, in the final stage of succession, the smaller bushes and trees create so much shade that they facilitate conditions for a forest to grow. In this forest, there can be less diversity (as not everything likes so much shade), but there’s more stability. As trees and bushes live for long periods of time, their branches and thickets provide reliable sources of support for animals; their consistent leaf-litter provides ongoing soil-making materials; and their shade helps to maintain moisture in the ground. This final forest phase is considered the “climax community” of the ecological succession.
All that being said, the climax community is not necessary “the best.” Every stage of ecological development is important as humans (and all the ecosystems of Earth) rely on resources that grow in different phases: the fertile ground of grasslands provides conditions for growing and grazing, and forests provide fuel and shelter.
Furthermore, the climax community is not necessarily the end of the road. When a climax community is significantly disturbed (through natural means, such as fires, or human causes, such as clear-cutting for logging, development, or cattle) the environment regresses to an earlier stage of development, “but not back to the beginning—soil and nutrients are still present2.” This is called secondary succession. Prior to modern human movement, this regression would simply pick-up at an earlier stage of development (to continue on as it did before).
However, with the massive transit of humans around the world, entirely new species are often brought into the disturbed environments, which can impact the process of secondary succession3. These new species sometimes dominate the native populations, on which many native animals (and the whole of the ecosystem) depend (read more about native and invasive plants here). Though (eventually) the course of nature is to balance itself out, this process takes hundreds (if not thousands) of years to happen. In the meantime, humans are just one of the animals that are affected by the awkward transition from invasive species into a healthy ecological succession.
With that in mind (and the fact that human disturbances to the environment happen monumentally more than they would naturally), environmental restoration supports the process of secondary succession by mitigating invasive plants and planting native ones.
This brings me back to my story, where human reliance on the diverse phases of ecological development has never been more apparent than in the process of helping to design a family-farm that is able to provide for as much of its own growing needs as possible, including fertilizer, mulch, and pest management.
Forest Restoration
Unable to build or grow anything within the dense thicket of weed trees that took over after the native food-forest was clear-cut and used to graze cattle, the current owner bulldozed the whole thing. However, by doing so they inadvertently invited a new challenger onto the scene: painstakingly persistent invasive grass that has its own way of dominating. Indeed, without the shade of the trees, this pervasive trouble-maker (that was originally grown as cattle-feed) had a heyday, and took over everything.
Since then, the current owner has been slowly and steadily working towards restoring the land to its original state as a food forest, but the task is daunting-
Firstly, there’s really no way to eradicate the grass so long as the sun shines on it. Though some suggest pulling it out by the roots, this is hard to do in rocky soil where roots are likely to be left behind, and to regrow.
On the other hand, chemicals that are often used to kill the grass are highly debated for their level of safety (or harm) to essential microorganisms in the soil, local water systems, and nearby plants and animals. But, even when chemicals are used, they don’t kill the seeds that are in the soil (and that can stay viable for up to 8 years). Plus, chemicals don’t prevent the ongoing onslaught of new seeds that are brought in regularly by the wind and the birds who carry them over from the neighbors.
So, the most reliable way to manage the grass is to shade-it-out with trees, but they often take years to grow to heights that really keep out the light. In the meantime, the grass grows astonishingly quickly around everything that’s planted within it. So, mulch and cardboard can be applied to smother the grass around the bases of the trees, but even that’s hard to maintain with wind, water and animals digging. All this to say, there’s really no avoiding getting down on your hands and knees to maintain it manually (which is terribly uncomfortable because the grass is so sharp and itchy).
That being said, once the trees get large enough to cast significant shade, the grass has a much harder time surviving; it needs full-sun to thrive. So, with consistent care, after about 5 years, the grass around the trees shouldn’t be so dang pesky.
This is the theory (anyway) that motivated me to keep going on that daunting day when the unexpected presence of vines promised to make the task of breaking ground monumentally more challenging.
At the time, I already had 15 trees ready to be planted in the nursery, which I would need to put in the ground soon (so to avoid root-binding). These particular trees were chosen purposefully. Fast-growing with thick canopies that dump huge amounts of leaves, these naturalized trees not only shade-out the grass, but produce massive amounts of carbon-rich mulch that can be used to feed and protect all the trees that have been (and will ultimately) be planted on the 5 acres.
This source of soil-making matter is absolute gold on this rocky plot that needs significant nutrient support for all the new trees to grow successfully. In fact, when I first arrived to support this land, creating a source of carbon-rich matter was one of the first needs that I identified. Though the green-grass is a great source of nitrogen-rich matter, in order to make successful compost, carbon-rich material is also essential4. The leaf-litter from these trees offers just what we need. Furthermore, when broken (or pruned) branches are dried and burned, their wood-ash also5 provides essential nutrients that may be missing.
With all that in mind, despite the difficulty that the vines and grass presented, I decided that it was absolutely worth the time and discomfort to expand the forest restoration effort. So, the other day, I covered up with long sleeves and pants, gloves and a hat, and began to carve a path with just a sickle in hand.
Only 90 minutes later (after a few cuss words and plenty of grunting), I carved out my first walkway for planting. By the end of it, the despair and defeat had left me, and in the process, I was even able to find the beauty. Both my body and my mind felt cleared along the way as I was reminded that serving the land always serves me.
Now I’ve invited a friend to help me, and together we’ll restore not only the forest, but also our own well-being.
Let’s Stay in Touch 💗
https://news.uchicago.edu/explainer/what-is-ecological-succession#:~:text=Secondary%20succession%20happens%20when%20a,and%20nutrients%20are%20still%20present.
Ibid.
https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0117283#:~:text=Invasive%20species%20can%20alter%20the,over%20the%20course%20of%20succession.
https://www.recology.com/recology-king-county/5-simple-steps-for-backyard-compost-2/#:~:text=Alternate%20layers%20of%20brown%20(carbon,Optional:%20Accelerate%20the%20Breakdown
https://hort.extension.wisc.edu/articles/using-wood-ash-in-the-home-garden/#:~:text=Prior%20to%20use%2C%20sift%20wood,skin%2C%20eye%20or%20respiratory%20irritation.
Share this post