The Sky Is Falling / Un Primer Cuento de la Granja

[ENGLISH BELOW] Me agrada anunciar que Senda Silvestre finalmente es una granja: cuenta con 5 ocas, a pesar de un trauma muy triste por la entrada de un zorro y la perdida de 2 de los 4 pioneros (una de ellos dejada allí muerta con el oviducto completamente lleno). Después de llorar unos días su muerte y pasar un buen período de autocastigo por mi propia negligencia, pues, me compré 3 oquitas que me llegaron con apenas 7 o 10 días y ya llevo 5 semanas criándolos. La hembra adulta (Goosey Loosey) que se emparejó con el macho (los 2 sobrevivientes), aunque no ha incubado bien sus huevos, pasadas un par de semanas, parece que ahora se cree la madre de los 3 chiquitos y ¡regularmente tengo que extender mis brazos/alas y graznarle aún más fuertemente que me hace a mí para recordarle que son míos!! Mientras tanto el macho, Banda Blanca, de mi amigo J.L., los maltrata sin piedad cada vez que se acercan a ‘su’ agua o a ‘su’ comida. O sea, lo normal de establecer la jerarquía. He aprendido como manejar todas las personalidades y parece que va bien. Disfruto del desarrollo de las chiquitas (mirad las fotos abajo), que ahora me dejan cogerlas y acariciarlas. Como el relato de hoy se basa en un cuento de niños que relaciono con una vivencia de mi infancia, está escrito principalmente en inglés.

I grew up on a 100-acre (40-hectare) farm, in a back-to-the-country sort of way; my parents were city folks who bought a former dairy farm and spent a year or more fixing it up. We moved in when I was eight. There was a full barn with stalls for several dozen cows (though the animals had been sold off), an enormous grain silo that must have been a hundred feet tall, two enormous hay lofts, ample room for tractors and assorted farm implements, and even a root cellar where apples kept for most of the winter. Despite this and despite me being absolutely crazy for horses, the only animals we ever had were an ever-rotating population of farm cats and two lambs, one of which died within two weeks and the other at three years (probably of sheer loneliness). Though the sheep was meant for eating, my mother in a moment of uncharacteristic leniency which to this day I cannot explain, in the end did not send it to slaughter. Of course I had fallen in love with it as an adorable baby (it was an orphan that I fed with a bottle for several weeks). I plotted how I would run away from home the minute the slaughterhouse entered the picture; perhaps my soft-hearted though typically unassertive father intervened. It was my job to feed that sheep every day and change its bedding every week. I was heart-broken when it died and dug its grave myself, in the middle of the apple orchard. I must have been 12 or 13.

My mother, granddaughter of German immigrants, was a hard woman. She never allowed me any other animals, although a parent could have hardly asked for a most responsible child. In the end, I did extra farm chores, for and with my father, to earn a bit of pocket change to pay for riding lessons, biking miles away to a horse stable. We lived quite high on a hill and I remember clearly the long schlepp pushing the bike uphill back home. The few years, years back, that I lived in Germany, were in part to puzzle out my mother’s approach to life: a sort of joyless soul-crushing fulfillment of one’s duty. From what I saw, she may have out-German’ed the Germans. I remember her mother as being the same, immigrants to the New World being a special breed…

But I digress from the current story, which is about my determination, after five years, to finally make Senda Silvestre a farm, which to me means animals. I did my homework and settled on geese as the perfect mixture of tough, lawn-mowing, fertilizing machines (the fact that I’m sick to death of weed-wacking surely influenced my decision). I got two mature females first, who rewarded me with an egg each, laid during the trip to the farm and another on the first day there. I got them installed in a loosely-fenced inner pen and named the more vocal one Henny Penny. The quieter, submissive one of course, was Goosey Loosey. All went well and three days later, J.L. brought me two excess males from his gaggle of 13 that was suffering a masculinity overload. One of the males had a white stripe across his breast and became Banda Blanca. The other, probably the runt of the litter, had a white spot on his breast, Cor Blanc (Corazón Blanco).

Well Banda Blanca spent the entire afternoon calling out to his missing compañeros and repeatedly escaping from the pen. Eventually I gave up and went home, as I had sadly not thought to bring my camping gear. The next day, all that remained of Cor Blanc were a few tell-tale feathers at a weak spot where the fence joins the neighbor’s, and Henny Penny lay dead in the pen. The two-meter fence that represented the better part of three years on the chain gang was, in my mind, fox-proof. It certainly is wild boar- and dog-proof. But the fox had found a way in through a spot in the fence that said neighbor had compromised, without my knowledge.

My friend M. came out before sunset and helped me get the survivors to safe temporary quarters and also engaged in an unexpected dissection – it turns out she had never before seen a poultry oviduct full of eggs (of course not, no one slaughters a goose who is laying). We skinned Henny Penny together and she enjoyed the biology lesson and I took poor Henny home to freeze for another day. In the meantime, I felt like an assassin, of course, for my negligence, and, despite having seen my share of death in the countryside, spent most of the next couple of days in tears.

In April, I bought 3 new goslings (about 2 weeks old i nthe photo above) to replace the two adults lost. They are unsexed (it’s very difficult to sex poultry, particularly when they’re young) so only time will tell. In the meantime, Goosey Loosey and Banda Blanca formed a tight pair (it must have been the trauma that brought them together) and are slowly accepting the goslings into a gaggle. Here’s Goosey Loosey, who apparently believes she’s become a mother, guarding the babies at about 3 to 4 weeks old.There are goose droppings building up fast and the many small plants we’ve introduced this year to flesh out a number of permaculture guilds are looking extremely happy. It’s also been quite a rainy year and relatively cool, not as extreme as last year, so really perfect planting conditions.

S. has built a palatial pen to protect the animals overnight or on the off day someone can’t make it out to the farm to let them out to graze. Banda Blanca has discovered a weed that is one of my least favorites (Avena fatua, aka wild oats, if I’m not mistaken) and is teaching the rest of the gaggle to strip it of its nasty long, pointed stickers that lodge into socks, boots and laces and are terrible to remove. And we have eaten goose eggs (double the size of chicken eggs) and goose meat (incredibly rich, practically like red meat), in my case for the first time in my life. Cuca the neighbor’s dog is fascinated by the goslings and whines every time she isn’t allowed to play with them. Goosey Loosey has pecked her very hard at least three times that I’ve seen, so Cuca is learning to keep her distance, with certain lapses where she works herself into a bit of a frenzy and has to be put outside the fence. She seems to have an irrestible urge to lick them, which they (and I) don’t understand at all… Despite this, I think the goslings will grow up accepting her. Let’s see if the future doesn’t bring super-cute photos of adolescent goslings and a mangy yellow lab zonked out side-by-side in the summer heat.

Amor Prohibido

Ahir quan ja estava jo acabant en el camp, la gossa que passa cada vegada més temps amb mi, va fer-me senyals perquè li òbriga la porta i es va anar del meu camp primerenc, cosa que no fa mai, a no ser que escolte a la seua gent (veïns meus). Bé, em vaig dir (ja que la soledat et lleva a parlar-te més del normal o saludable), hauran vingut sense haver-ho detectat jo. Però no anava cap a la seua casa. Bé, em vaig dir, haurà escoltat alguna altra cosa interessant.

No ho vaig pensar més, vaig acabar i eixir cap al camí d’alt. I allí dalt, a uns 200 metres del meu camp, uns 15 o 20 minuts després, ja prou de nit, va estar ella, interceptant-me, cosa que mai havia fet. Uuuf, em vaig dir, està pràcticament invisible, i si ve un cotxe, què passarà?, que allí no és el seu lloc. Ella és del barranc, no del camí d’alt, terre inconnue, la gent d’allí no la coneix. Li vaig indicar que torne a casa, ‘a casa’, li vaig dir, però clar, assenyalant la direcció contrària a la normal.

I ella es va posar al costat de la bici a córrer amb mi, exactament com feia Xakti, cosa què és per a trencar-me el cor. A més, 5,5 km definitivament no pot córrer. Vaig parar una 2a vegada a dir-li, ‘adeu, bonica, tu vas a casa‘. I vaig pedalejar a tota velocitat cap al poble, amb una sensació terrible d’abandonament mutu, a la meua casa tan buida com la seua.

Aiiii, perdre el cor a un labrador és un martiri total.

Continuat: El Tema dels Murs Antics / Walls, Continued

[English below.]
En el vídeo els dos senyors B., veïns meus, demostren com es treballa les pedres realment grans, que són el triple de tamany de les de la base que vam fer nosaltres. El senyor amb la palanca, és de la família que va fer totes les obres de canalització i murs de contenció dels nivells d’una bona part de la nostra vall. El seu pare ens va fer la nostra canalització i a més el nostre aljub. Admire molt aquestes antigues tècniques. La narració està feta pel seu nebot, nostre regador, A.

The video shows two of my neighbors working the really big rocks by leveraging along with gravity. The narrator is the man who runs the irrigation pump for our part of the valley. The man with the pole is his uncle, my neighbor. And their respective father/grandfather is the person who constructed the irrigation canals and the cistern at our farm. With the torrential rains we lately seem to be getting once every month or two, there’s not a time after the rains that one rides out to the farm without seeing at least one old wall that has crumbled. We are currently designing an erosion control permaculture guild to try to hold our own hillside in place. More on that in the future.

Landscape of Fear

[Castellano abajo.]
This title was so amazing that I had to plagiarize it, but I want to link to the report anyway, here, about the importance of apex predators in nature. Our farm is some 200 meters away from the Pas del Llop (Wolf Pass) in a valley completely free of wolves, undoubtedly for decades (note to self: check with some of the old-timers on this). The consequence is, as I’ve written before, that the wild boars are completely out of control and we’ve had to fence in about 7800 of our total 10600 square meters. It was a Herculean task, pretty much self-taught, on which we spent the better part of three years (since there’s no electricity, I, the chemist of the team and with the better back, mixed all the cement by hand). I hate the environmental implications of cement but I have to admit that it’s been really nice as the month tick by since the boars rooted out the last seedling in the early part of this year.

The area where I grew up was rocky agriculture land, and the country roads were lined with walls from the stones that the land continuously belched out. I learned the dry-stack technique together with my father, as soon as I was old enough to heft rocks. I say together with, not from, because he was a city boy transplant to the country. It would seem that having the skill hardwired from childhood is worth something; the rock wall that I completed earlier this year has stood the test of several torrential rains, most recently last month, when 445 mm fell in 24 hours, of that nearly 200 mm in only two hours. Which is more than I can say for the roof of the 111-year-old house in which I am living in town, where the rainfall measured less than half that. It leaked like a sieve.

But I digress… Back to the fence which has three parts: stretches where a retaining wall was necessary (the most effort of all), stretches where a foundation had to be built (into which it could be cemented directly), and stretches where it could be cemented against an existing wall. The entire length of the fence is some 315 meters; roughly 90 meters needed foundation and nearly 24 meters required earthworks. The picture gallery below shows a continuous length with a mix of the styles. First is an existing cement block wall that we extended in the same style, then a dry stack wall of stones that came from this source, then a natural cement wall that consists of our own rocks and dirt, plus a small amount of gravel and natural cement that were purchased to make the proper mix. The last part of the wall, dark from moss due to the moisture on this north-facing wall, is an existing retaining wall in the older style that was built when the terraces were leveled.

Many natural construction workshops and many dear friends were involved in making this wall a reality. Many crushed fingers later, I am really happy with how it looks. And the nicest thing of all was my friend P., who later told me, ‘I look at walls completely differently now, it’s really made me appreciate my own heritage.’ One final note: when hiking in the mountains which are full of limestone rock, one is prone to stumble upon one of hte historic limestone kilns that dot the area. But that is another story, and a whole different level of skills (producing my own natural cement) to which, yes, I admit, I do aspire. In the meantime, I would like to cover the cement block wall with a thin layer of plaster made from our soil and natural cement, to impart our natural soil color. And I will await the return of the wolves, who are slowly spreading back through Spain.

En la galería de fotos, expongo las 3 diferentes maneras que hemos utilizado para vallar nuestro campo. El más complicado del todo ha sido construir muros de rentención, donde no había nada para apoyar la valla. Allí habremos hecho aprox. 24 metros de largo, con una altura media de tal vez un metro. También bastante difícil ha sido la necesidad de obrar una cimentación de 40 cm en zonas donde no había nada pero sin necesidad de retener la tierra de un nivel. Allí hicimos unos 90 metros. Lo más fácil, y así hemos intentado aprovechar al máximo, ha sido apoyar la valla en muros ya existentes. En total son aprox. 315 metros lineales de valla.

Las fotos muestran como hemos extendido un trozo de estos muros más feos de bloques de cemento (espero pronto revocarlo con cemento natural y nuestra tierra). Luego hemos pasado a la técnica de piedra seca. Finalmente se aprecia un trozo de muro rústico con cimentación natural (una mescla de nuestras piedras y nuestra tierra con un poco de planché y cemento natural comprados). Al final del todo se ve un muro ya existente, totalmente negro por el musgo, indicación de la alta humedad en este costado norte).

Voldria agrair a totes les amigues i tots els amics qui haveu, juntes i junts amb mi, esclafat els dits per a què tinga murs rústics tan bonics. Però el moment més emocionant de tota l’experiència ha sigut el comentari subseqüent de la meua amiga P., qui ha dit, ‘ara circulant pel meu país, m’és impossible no parar a mirar els murs antics, gràcies per haver-nos ajudat a valorar el nostre patrimoni.’ Un verdaderament plaer, que són una meravella!

Concluyo con la observación de que este muro, como expuse anteriormente, ha sido necesario debido a la falta de lobos en nuestro valle. De hecho, estamos a 3 entradas del Pas del Llop, que llevará ya décadas sin haber visto lobo alguno. Y el desequilibro de los jabalíes, consecuencia de su ausencia, es severo. Ahora espero la vuelta de los lobos con tranquilidad.

Lista Preliminar de Plantas Senda Silvestre

[English below.]
Ya que este curso de permacultura que no se pudo hacer por su mayoría (solamente se hizo el primer día introductorio debido a la cuarentena), se vuelve a programa para este jueves, querría subir esta lista en formato archivo para los alumnos y toda la demás gente a que le pueda interesar. Incluye tanto las plantas que hemos introducido (en el columna Estatus se puede ver el número de las mismas) como las silvestres que ya estaban allí al comienzo del proyecto o que se han ido estableciéndose a lo largo de el, debido a la mejora del suelo. Estas últimas no están enumeradas. Así es que si encuentras un número en el columna de Estatus, la planta se introdujo a propósito. Seguramente la lista la iremos ampliando y mejorando con el tiempo.

Haz clic para acceder a sendasilvestreplantasresumencursillooct2020.pdf

Here’s our first comprehensive list of plants at Senda Silvestre. It includes those that we introduced intentially, which appear either with number planted or a written note in the Status column. The others with no entry under Status were either there growing wild when the project began or have established themselves over the course of the project, as the soil quality began to improve (burdocks and stinging nettles, for example). We’ll continue to expand and improve the list over time.

Cornus Mas

[English below.]
Quiero seguir con la serie Héroes Permaculturistas, que vamos desarrollando en cuanto encontramos plantas aptas, que a veces son bastante difíciles de conseguir en España. Hoy tratamos el cornejo macho (Cornus mas).  No cumple exactamente mis criterios pero añade otro que no tenía contemplado, que es el color a finales de invierno (y por lo cual, da a comer a las abejas antes de los cítricos).


Tolera la sequía y es bastante flexible en cuanto a la iluminación, desde sol bastante hasta media sombra. Produce un fruto ácido y las semillas pueden servir de sustituto al café.  Además, aquellos frutos son pequeños y por esto, atractivos para los aves, el cual puede teóricamente evitar su daño a la fruta más grande que nos interesa a los seres humanos.

Este verano de vacaciones en Berlín, a través de esta página, S. encontró un ejemplar majéstico en el Parque Treptower.  Cogí varios frutos y los traje por aquí y ahora las tengo plantados para que se estratifiquen durante el invierno, a ver si sale algo en la primavera.CornusMasTreptower

Here I’m continuing what I hope will become a regular examination of Permaculture Heroes being planted at Senda Silvestre (you can see more by clicking on the category with this name below).  This is the Cornus mas or Cornellian cherry which doesn’t meet at least three of my permaculture criteria but does add another which I hadn’t contemplated, which is late-winter color.  This helps sustain the bees before the appearance of the citrus flowers.

It’s drought tolerant and adaptable with respect to the amount of direct sun. It produces a small, sour fruit whose seeds can be used as a substitute for coffee.  In addition its fruits are attractive to birds and theoretically can dampen their interest in the surrounding Prunus species which are more interesting to us humans.

On vacation in Berlin this summer, through this cool website, S. found a magnificent example in Treptower Park.  I picked some fruit and brought it back and have planted the seeds directly to over-winter in the ground and we’ll see if anything comes of it in the spring.

La Gran Utilitat de la Palla d’Arròs / Rice Straw Mulch

[English at the very bottom. Valencià a mitj.]
No es la primera vez que alabo los usos múltiples de la paja de arroz, pero antes teníamos a lo mejor una docena de balas para probar. El otoño pasado compramos unas 300 para una posible edificación (todavía estamos a la espera del permiso), pero mientras tanto, con tanta lluvia, fue imposible mantenerlas secas y la foto muestra ahora lo que tenemos: un acolchado tremendo que ya se está descomponiendo a una materia orgánica riquísima para el suelo.

No és la primera vegada que alabe els usos múltiples de la palla d’arròs de L’Albufera, però abans teníem com a molt una dotzena de bales per a provar. El tardor passat, vam comprar unes 300 per a una possible edificació (encara esperem el permís de construir), però mentres tant, amb tanta pluja, va ser impossible mantindre’ls seques i la foto mostra ara ho que tenim: un ‘alcochado’ tremend que ja s’està descomponent a una matèria orgànica riquíssima pel sòl.
Decomposing straw 2

This is the bottom layer of rice straw after having been left out in the elements for about 8 months. We had covered it for a future straw bale building, but with such a tremendous quantity of rain, it was impossible to keep it dry and these bales are ending up serving as a pretty nice mulch. Nice to see such rich dark organic material, and they also help to conserve soil moisture!

Actualment Mengem / What We’re Eating

[Languages mixed below, una mezclas de idiomas sigue…]
With so much rain this year, the blackberries are coming out nicely. We let them grow wild, in this case using citrus rootstock from a failed graft as a trellis.

Amb tant de pluja, les mores enguany ixen boniques. Les deixem créixer silvestres, utilitzant un cítric fallit per a enredar-les.

Con tanta lluvia este año, las moras están saliendo bonitas. Las dejamos crecer silvestres, empleando un cítrico fallido para enredarlas.

Blackberries handful

The photo below is one of our nectarines, from early June, which was the most delicious nectarine I have ever eaten in my life! The tree was battling Taphrina deformans the entire spring, and I was removing leaves and removing more leaves, probably a total of five times, in total perhaps a third of its leaves. At that point it got aphids and looked quite unhappy with all the humidity. I fertilized well to give it strength and with the change in weather, it is happy and healthy and reaching for the sky. All accomplished without chemicals, just the right dose of love.

photo_2020-06-25_15-08-39Os dejo con una foto de la nectarina más deliciosa que he comido en toda mi vida, al inicio de junio. Ese árbol pasó toda la primavera batallando la abolladura (Taphrina deformans) y luego algo de pulgón (ácaros). Fui quitando hojas infectadas selectivamente hasta que ya me pareció ser el momento de dejarle al pobre árbol las suficientes para fotosintetizar. Y parece haber ganada la batalla, cuando finalmente en junio dejó de llover tanto. Está enorme con las hojas sanas. Y nada de tratamientos, solamente un poco de amor.

Animal(e)s de la Quarentena

Although I can’t say there has been an explosion, I certainly have seen more wildlife than usual in the last 3 months.  I’m trying a different schedule this year as the heat has risen, mainly working in the late afternoon till 11 PM or 12 midnight, using a headlamp. Since the insects have been on the whole less of a plague so far this year and the afternoon breezes off the ocean have been fairly regular, this has been a good way to deal with the heat.

leaky_fenceWading through the wilderness of the farthest completely undeveloped corner of the farm, S. found this section of fence that hadn’t been properly tightened, pushed out from the base cement wall by about half a foot (15 cm); look carefully at the photo to see the bottom wire twisted up and out. It seems most likely the work of a fox, which may explain the matted down grass that we’ve been seeing on the farm for several months since we finished the fence.sleeping_area

We have to wonder, though, if it was more than one fox as the area of matted grass, maybe 4 or 6 sq. meters, was larger than a single animal would have caused. The final photo shows what happened after S. tightened the fence back down, with the disturbed dirt a bit ambiguous with respect to tracks, but most in line with a fox. Animal lovers do not despair, whatever they were, animals the size of a fox or a small dog are able to slip out the slats in the front gate.let-me-out

Animals seen during the last month: countless lizards, countless bees including normal bumblebees as well as a particularly elongated one (note to self: figure out what this is called), iguanas, snakes, rabbits and rodents (mainly heard but not seen). During pruning in the last spring/early summer we found 3 bird’s nests, roughly robin- or sparrow-sized.  But no larger birds, as far as I could tell, made their nests at the farm this year. Then there were the frogs, singing out the whole day long their happiness at so much rain.

Then those seen near the farm, including on the ride home at night, are a partridge in a neighbor’s field, a huge male boar on the road that turned to give me a full look at his enormous size before trotting off down to the ravine, and a finally fox on the road with enormous eyes looking at me before escaping through an iron gate that leads to another farm.

El Buey Descartado y el Muy Complicado Tema de los Fertilizantes

Últimamente me está gustando el trabajo de un informático que, en estos tiempos de cuarentena, se ha puesto a analizar preguntas muy importantes para un futuro de bajo impacto medioambiental. Su última aportación trata la cuestión de los fertilizantes, tema que me había propuesto hace un par de semanas y al que le había respondido simplemente, como me pasa bastante con todo esto, un ¨pues, es complicado¨. Pero ahora intentaré darle más perspectivas que considero importantes.

Su argumento sobre la necesidad de tener animales va bastante bien, de hecho, es una opinión que comparto, pero allí tocamos la primera dificultad de una explotación verdaderamente permaculturista en España. Para tener animales es muy difícil no vivir con ellos, pero la bureaucracia aquí lo pone bastante complicado para que viva uno en el campo. Tengamos en cuenta que España es un país con una historia plena de invasiones e invasores, donde no hay costumbre de vivir en el campo, a no ser unas pocas semanas de verano cuando el calor en los pueblos se pone insoportable. Conseguir permiso para vivir allí todo el año y cuidar de tus animales y recoger agua limpia pluvial y estar atento de tu invernadero para que no se quemen las plantitas en primeravera, etc., etc. es bastante (ya lo habráis adivinado….) complicado.

Déjemos esa complicación mejor para otro día y exploremos el tema de la fertilización de bajo impacto sin animales. Metámonos en el mundo de las cubiertas vegetales, además de las rotaciones y las asociaciones de cultivos. Actualmente están funcionando estas dos cubiertas leguminosas en la Granja Senda Silvestre: el Lotus corniculatus y el Onobrychis viciifolia (la esparceta). Aquí (en la segunda mitad) aparece una foto de ellas y más comentarios en inglés al respecto.

Cuando digo que están funcionando, me refiero a que no se mueren inmediatamente dadas las condiciones meterológicas del campo valenciano y reaparecen año tras año. Bien, ha sido un criterio muy fuerte este de perennidad. Otro importante es la cantidad de nitrógeno que aportan. Pero por el momento, no tengo como medirla.

Hay otra cubierta vegetal que funciona como un ‘acumulador dinámico’, es decir, que ‘mina’ el fósforo que, debido a muchas décadas de riego a manta, habrá bajado sustancialmente.  Es la milenrama (Achillea millefolium) que, con su enorme raíz, teóricamente sube el mineral hasta la superficie donde las demás plantas lo puedan aprovechar. Allí tampoco sé hasta qué punto funciona. Medir la eficacia de estas cubiertas vegetales son experimentos que me gustarían hacer.

¿Cuáles otros ejemplos de la fertilización sostenible son dignos de considerar? La asociación muy clásica es la de las 3 hermanas, de la milpa centroamericana: calabaza, frijol y maíz, cuyo propósito es evitar aportaciones externas. La foto de esta asociación tan famosa es del libro de Toensmeier que abajo citoToensmeierFoto3Hermanas.

El siguiente ejemplo es de los cereales que en las explotaciones más sostenibles se rotan con un cultivo invernal leguminoso, que sirve para que los animales también pasten. Sin embargo, esta manera de cultivar por rotación normalmente implica maquinaria, porque la tierra se suele labrar. Animales de labranza, pues, es un tema serio, porque un buey o incluso un burro ya sería una inversión muy importante en todos sentidos: su compra, su refugio, el veterinario, etc., pero más que todo, la cantidad de campo que se dedicaría solamente a los cultivos necesarios para alimentarlo. Expongo aquí un dibujo del libro muy conocido en el círculo de la auto-suficiencia, La Vida en el Campo de John Seymour (1976), y os dirigo a estas críticas que encuentro válidas.SeymourPhotoVidaEnElCampo

Para mí, descartado el buey y descartado labrar, salvo que sea un trozo a mano para el autoconsumo. Y como a mí, sí que me gustan los cereales tanto como a cualquier vegano puro y duro y los quiero cultivar, este año por primera vez he sembrado maíz, por supuesto dentro de la asociación de las tres hermanas y con semillas autóctonas. ¿Cómo lo hacemos? Un permaculturista diría que hay que dejar todo esto de cultivar anuales y apostar por lo que es perenne. Actualmente se intenta desarrollar cereales perennes, como comenta Eric Toensmeier en su libro, THE CARBON FARMING SOLUTION: A Global Toolkit of Perennial Crops and Regenerative Agriculture Practices for Climate Change Mitigation and Food Security (aquí aparece una entrevista en castellano). A mi parecer, es un tema muy pertinente al futuro del veganismo. Ahora, si llegarán est nuevos cereales a tiempo, no tengo ni idea.