Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Balancing the Field

"Human existence may be simpler than we thought. There is no predestination, no unfathomed mystery of life. Demons and gods do not vie for our allegiance. Instead, we are self-made, independent, alone, and fragile, a biological species adapted to live in a biological world. What counts for long-term survival is intelligent self-understanding, based upon a greater independence of thought than that tolerated today even in our most advanced democratic societies." 
- E.O. Wilson

If there is dirt, sun, and water there will be growth. That part is simple. My role as gardener is to guide that growth, understand where it's heading, and ensure that my crops can compete against pests and invasives. It requires constant work, an understanding of agricultural science, a connection with the land, and, most importantly, a guiding vision for it. If I step out of the picture and allow nature to take its course, my yard will revert back to the ecological desert of guinea grass that it was when I began working on it four years ago.

While there are thousands of introduced plants in Hawai'i, only a few are invasive. And guinea grass is one of the worst. It likely evolved in a highly competitive environment tempered only by the incessant appetites of roaming ruminants. The sugar cane fields of my childhood are now guinea grass havens. It's always there, hanging around the margins of our land speculating the right time to spread its seed. My first job as gardener was to even the playing field for the native species, food crops, and other beneficials that I was introducing to my yard. After four years of weeding, digging, pruning, and mulching the land is now more diverse and biologically productive than would be possible without my input. The birds are coming back, flood events are less damaging than they were before (more plants to soak up the water and swales to divert it), I am adding top soil with the excess biomass, nitrogen fixing plants are minimizing my need for outside fertilizer, and, in my opinion, it's beautiful. Notice anything missing from that list? Unless I could survive off Thai basil, ginger root, and bananas-- I'm not getting much sustenance from the land, but that's another story.

While it's a diverse and symbiotic community of plants, it was created entirely by my own hand. There are rules that I was slow to learn (i.e. don't plant too close together, slow down the path of water, etc.) and there are natural limitations to growth, but, the direction is entirely up to me. Understanding my responsibility and relationship to the land was the first step; tailoring a vision for it was second; and undertaking a lifetime of making it work (pulling weeds, harvesting, supporting weak plants, etc) is a never-ending commitment. 

Because I'm predictable and my posts often follow a similar formula (societal revelations through the lessons of nature), you've probably guessed where I'm going with this stretched metaphor. Society, like my garden, is our own creation* and it's time that we own up to to our responsibilities. Change water to money, photosynthesis to capitalism, and we become the gardeners of society. In the words of David Suzuki, "capitalism, free enterprise, the economy, currency, the market, are not forces of nature, we invented them." 

Yet, we continually stifle our own transformative potential with the friction of bureaucracy on one hand and the illusion of the invisible hand on the other. If we can just grow the economy enough our problems will go away: in other words, the market will see us through. Look around, how's that strategy working out for us? One pervasive lesson after 238 years of the greatest political experiment in the history of humanity (democracy) is that it doesn't work without our constant engagement.

By disengaging from the system we are shirking our duty and in the process we are losing our quality of life. The massive systemic failures on Kaua'i aren't going to go away simply through growth or time. As everyone who has ever lifted a hoe knows, when you step back and rest on your laurels, invasives will win every time. 


*Creation is a tricky word. Obviously I didn't create the plants as much as an artist doesn't create his paint and a politician doesn't create his community. But, the vision, design, and outcome are all very much items of our creation.

  



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