Climate Destruction

Last week, I woke from this nightmare. Only a few miles from home, a storm started. The wind started slowly, picking up speed, hurtling trash and branches against my path. Before long, I couldn’t walk against the velocity of the wind. A little while longer, the strength of the wind was too strong for bicycles, then cars, then airplanes. The path home turned into a wind tunnel, the end too far away to distinguish. We were stranded, without water, without fire, without protection. Eventually, all greenery ripped from the ground and only barren ground in its place, we turned our backs away from safety. How long we waited, I am unsure. Snow came, and we hugged and danced to stay warm. I woke up shivering under a light blanket that had been perfect for this past week’s 80 plus temperatures. 

Farming is always an act of managing as much as you can and submitting to what you can’t. This spring season has been particularly hard in this act. Last weekend proved to be yet another hurdle that endless planning can only somewhat protect. Temperatures were expected to be a low of 37 degrees this weekend in Richmond, IL. While most crops survived (hoorah!),  this boomerang of temperatures (95 last week) is sending a lot of crops into shock. In addition, the lack of rain, record-setting for some northern region’s of Illinois, has diminished the capacity of crops out in the field to settle into the soil, their overall health already straining against the low levels of water. Without the tools they need to establish a healthy root system after planting, they are at the mercy of the atmosphere. 

It’s a terrifying thought to think about what we could have lost this weekend. Frost fabric, kelp application and misting techniques can be employed to some crops, but not all are safe. Some of what we had planned and promised for our customers may be lost. Conversations go into the night of how we can accurately account for these losses of promise. In the end, does overnight shipping more seeds help this climate issue? Does buying from other farms, more aptly prepared for these circumstances eliminate the cause of loss? For me, it’s the conversation. Our food system is supported by it’s buyers, and if they are unaware that a whole crop of lettuce, peppers or sunflowers are lost on a small acreage farm because it’s quickly replaced by a larger farm, how will our buying habits change? How will our palette’s develop to appreciate the sweetness of a berry or the crunch of a cucumber that survived against the odds of a rapidly changing climate? Will the food we depend on months outside of their availability season adapt faster or slower than the farmers themselves? 

I’m equally grateful for this challenge while terrified of the challenges that will conquer us. Farmers have been adapting for centuries, but the changes we are now experiencing are back to back, season to season. I work for local food systems to thrive and feed their communities. Additional work is being done by local and national groups to provide resources to those to manage these climate challenges and counter them with techniques to increase balance for the future. The NYTimes just recently detailed a new diet: the Climatarian. Climate change is not only a challenge for farmers. It extends to our communities as well. We all have a part to play. I encourage you to get to know your farmers and the struggles they persist through for you! It might even change how your food tastes.

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