Xin lives in the quieter more suburban neighborhood of the city where triple decker houses line up on the narrow streets. Her house, like most on her street, holds three apartments and they share a small back yard. But it is the sunnier front yard that has always been Xin’s favorite spot. Gotta check on the crops, she calls up to her granddad up on the balcony of the second floor apartment he lives in over the one Xin shares with her parents and three siblings – I won’t be late for school. In the front yard, a sunny patch of ground about 20’ by 20’, Xin and her grandfather are growing bok choi, lettuce, pea tendrils, carrots, and zucchini. She grabs a bright yellow squash flower and pops it in her mouth. XX, she calls back, you’d better pull in some of these this afternoon – looks like a storm is coming. She scans the clear sky for the distant clouds, something about the crisp cool breeze feels to her like trouble. She could check the internet news for storm tracking information but she prefers to cultivate her instincts for sudden weather patterns.
Modify with plants on balconies and roofs. Deepen front yard and add plantings, include some corn. Add tree lawn and street fruit trees.
As she glides down the wide sidewalks on her skateboard, Xin passes many small front gardens full of ripening vegetables. Her neighbors yard is full of spicy chili peppers. Bright red tomatoes trail out of window boxes on the balconies overlooking the street. The traditional triple-decker buildings are topped with green roofs and more gardens. On her block the street trees are a variety of fruit trees. The cherries are all done by the apples are still ripening.
Confirming her suspicions about the storm, she sees several of her neighbors out with ladders hurrying to pick the last of the fruit. Somebody else is worried she thinks. At least it will be a half day so I can go help pull in the crops at the farm when classes are over.
Her morning classes fly by as the science days always do for Xin. A full morning of one subject allows for serious immersion in their experiments, and suddenly it is time for lunch. In the sunny cafeteria, the students line up to assemble their salads and dish up the vegetarian stew. Xin has a weakness for the fresh bread and butter. She recognizes the lettuce from the school gardens and loads up on the tomatoes that were picked that morning. Who needs dessert with these babies she croons to her friend Sally. Besides I’m going straight into town for a smoothie as soon as the bell rings for early release.
School is out and Xin grabs her skateboard and dashes out across the former parking lot – they tell her years ago lots of teenagers drove to school – seems very odd. Why would anyone want to be saddled with a giant hunk of metal all day when it is so much easier to get around by zooming by on a board, or a bike. Now the area is another athletic field with a quick pick up soccer game forming already.
Add skyline behind field
She jumps on the board to roll out on to the wide sidewalk. Rules of the road, dictate staying out of the way of baby carriages and pedestrians, so she hangs to the outer edge of the sidewalk until the bike path appears just before the bridge over the highway. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out the snack she grabbed from the lunch cafeteria. Fruit chips sweetened and dried are her favorite. She helped make them last summer when the bumper crop came in at the orchards.
The vines on the overpass are turning bright red and the bamboo below is yellow in the late afternoon sun. In the old days the walk over the highway was desolate and windy, but today the wind breaks gently through the leaves and the colorful walls shield the view to below.
Moving through this leafy tunnel is a magical part of her daily commute. It was years before she thought to wonder how the vines grew so far up in above the ground and the road below. That was the moment when she began to think about engineering and design – when she puzzled out the relationship between the giant lotus flower like columns that were providing shade and catching rainwater along the bridge. From them came small pipes irrigating the planting boxes running along the fence. Now the whole structure was deeply buried in years of growth, turning light golden green early in the spring, then deep and full green in the summer – totally blocking out the sense of the traffic streaming below. Then in her favorite incarnation in the fall it was converting to bright brittle red. In the winter the skeletal vines will reveal their structure and make a lacey porous shroud to the bridge. Industrial design or plant science – someday she will have to choose a college major, for now she vacillates daily about her life direction.
On the other side of the bridge, entering downtown she picks up the greenway, zipping past the fountains that provided such splashing relief in the hot summer, but it is too cool to get wet today. There is time though for a quick detour to the market to smell the spices and buy some fresh fruit. Besides that cute guy from science class is working upstairs at the rooftop greenhouse. He says there are still raspberries coming – better check.
In spite of her hurry, she takes the winding path, laid out under the big trees for those who want to meander or get a better workout. The short ramps and wide steps might not have been designed for the skateboarder but they sure do provide some challenging detours. Taking the jumps at full speed she’ll still get there before her buddy knocks off at the green house – maybe they can get a smoothie at the café before she jumps the bus for the ride to the park for the harvest party.
If not maybe she’ll stop at the park for a few rounds of the latest video game on the big outdoor screen. There are usually a couple of kids there pumping their stationary bikes to power the projector. It really makes the game better than the WiiX at home because you throw your whole body into it. But if that cute guy is at the market, the fresh raspberry smoothie will do.
As she approaches the market building, Xin notices the unusual crowd. A kind of electricity is in the air and she realizes a storm is coming. People are stocking up on groceries and their bustle mingles with the slight spark in the air and the stirrings of the breezes in the brightly colored leaves. There is always something kind of exciting about the fall, she thinks.
No time for raspberries today, she had better hussle out to the fields to help pull in the last of the xx harvest before the hurricane hits. Besides, her buddy from science class is bound to have had the same thought. These early afternoon releases from school are designed to give students the chance to help on the community farms that weave through the city. Just then she gets a text message: Hurricane alert. Come harvest now. She looks at the sky and laughs – I guess some people need an official notification – like it isn’t perfectly obvious that a storm is coming!
The farm
Xin first learned about the farm as a small child when the day care group took a field trip to the farm to watch them make cheese. All the local farms have close relationships with the preschools and elementary schools. The farmers also help with the schoolyard gardens that extend every classroom out into the yards. They even bring animals to the schools for special garden day events. They know their help pays off later when the high school provides lots of volunteers at harvest time and a new crop of young farmers graduate from the advanced Vo-tech Agriculture program ready to join the expanding farmers networks.
The 4-H Clubs are now a big deal in the region, with hydroponics, bio-art, heritage fruits and vegetables, plus the incredible genome video puzzle games that teach kids the science of protein folding into complex origami like shapes.
The high school garden includes a high tech greenhouse where the science students experiment with breeding modified crops and new organic methods. The winner of last year’s science fair had developed a new spicy pepper that would grow in cooler temperatures extending the season and the availability of this traditionally southern delicacy.
Many years ago people had a fear of modified crops but that was in the days when corporations led the research and were distorting the products so that farmers were dependent on the companies for new seed or fertilizers or pesticides. But then the major grants started going to the universities and their biology departments where the genius of nature’s complex ecologies were respected and mimicked and the research all landed in the public domain. The narrow gain economic model that tried to restrict all discoveries to benefit a few finally gave way to open source genetic mash up.
The high school kids now compete to get into the best university research programs to tackle the opportunities to breed the best greenhouse tomatoes or drought resistant wheat. One model for this innovation came from the discovery in the early 21st century that feeding cows flax grains instead of corn, improved their health and reduced their flatulence, which had by then been identified as a significant source of Greenhouse gases. Once agricultural research support was channeled to sustainable practices, the special gains unique to market efficiency helped open and accelerate innovation. The health of grazing animals and the ecology of prairie crops, once tackled together created new models of farming.
As Xin approaches the cheese farm, as the kids have always called the Fields Point Farm ever since the pre-school field trips, she first sees the long row of wind mills lining the waters edge. Lots of her classmates arrive at the same time. Some of the older retired folks pull up in a van from the library and young families arrive in groups. The teenagers know the routine and take charge of dividing up the work crews. This time it is serious business – an elderly black woman looks thoughtfully at the approaching clouds and warns this is going to be a big storm and it may make landfall by dark.
In the fields, Xin pulls up greens and tosses them to her friend who places them in the truck. She thinks about what they learned last week in class about the soil and the history of farming in this region. Her fingers deep in the dark damp earth, she marvels at how the early NE farmers found a barely hospitable soil in this region.
After years of farming in Europe they had come to expect a deep rich layered dirt, but that came only after centuries of piling on the shit as her teacher had said, making the whole class laugh. What the first settlers found was a much less receptive soil, thinner, full of rocks, difficult to make the yields they hoped for, yet in unimaginable supply, endless expanses of land, there for the taking form the Indians, who did not have the same concept of ownership. Always, there was more land, maybe better land further out there. Whenever they exhausted the soil, American farmers kept moving on.
They would cut back the forest, clear, farm for a while, then decide to look for more fertility elsewhere. The patient centuries of building the soil were not for them. When they hit the western plains, the expanse of open land was mind blowing, with opportunity everywhere. If you could sit on the land for a year and “improve” it, make it yield a crop, it was yours to keep. The delicate ecology of tough prairie grasses was stripped away for miles of “amber waves of grain. The advent of the railroad and the ability to ship commodities long distances sealed the practice of large mono-crops. And then came the ranchers. (do I want to go into this here?)
After a while, Americans and their sophisticated agribusiness practices practically destroyed the fertility of the land, stripping away the top soil and substituting petrochemical fertilizers for the rich hummus of compost, and toxic pesticides for natural pest control.
The curriculum this year blends the social and political history with a natural history of the American continent. The history courses are coordinated with plant science and ecology. History, politics, science and economics all are seen as interrelated in the development of American ideas. How could anyone expect to understand the development of the American West without a deep appreciation for the kind of agricultural practices that were common then? Xin wonders. She traces her own fascination for that period of American history to her mother reading her the stories by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She still loves the descriptions of the abundant natural world. The woods teeming with wild life, the prairies with their tall grasses all have an exotic and remote feel for her city life. Still, she thinks, at least I can be a farmer and live in the city with all my friends nearby. And her science project this term is focused on the ecology of the prairie. In her favorite class, the innovation studio, the kids al have different projects working with mentors who include the teachers, but also students form the local university and the art school. Some of her peers are experimenting with ideas for products made from the tall grasses. She is more interested in the way the grasses hold the soil and whether they can be used to stabilize certain over-farmed areas. Dirt, for me it is always about getting in the dirt, she laughs. Imagine that the tall grass prairie was almost completely obliterated by agriculture, replaced by corn and soybean farms in the last century. Now we understand how much the grasses have to offer, as biofuels, and a replacement for petroleum plastics. Plus they can be harvested without destroying the ecology. It is nice to feel that we live in a smart age she thinks marveling at how destructive earlier practices were in the name of “progress”.
She has been fascinated to study the original treatises by Frederick Jackson Turner that helped establish so much of the American philosophy of the frontier spirit. (more clarity here)
The “Cheese Farm” is a special
Convert park to farm fields, add dark clouds on horizon
place as it sits, not on some imagined virgin plot of land, but where the scrap-yards and an asphalt plant once stood. In its earliest form the area was tidal flats and several small islands, one evocatively called Starve-Goat Island. The land had been filled in and then badly polluted in the first half of the 20th century. The remediation devised by the early 21st C was to plant it – letting the plant life suck up the heavy metals and other pollutants, first special grasses, then ornamental plants for sale, until many generations of plants later it had finally become clean enough grow food. Each year a new layer of planting sucked down into the soil to pull up the poisons and take them out of the soil, while at the same time each planting added organic material back and built up the nutrient capacity of the dirt. New techniques for phyto-remediation and intensification of fertilizing have recaptured many fallow industrial areas for farming. The large-scale industrial production left the area for good many decades ago but the revaluing of fresh local food has put the land into production. So where farms had stood in the 18th Century, industry in the 19th and 20th, now was a combination of water treatment and food production. History and dirt – it all comes together she thinks.
The coming storm present two dangers –the immediate one to the crops and a more lasting danger of letting the topsoil get washed out to sea in the storm. The farm sits on the very edge of the harbor and she looks up to review the fortified edge of the low lying agricultural fields near the water’s edge. Mini dykes have been built there to hold back the run off of the fields, making the landscape look almost like Holland. On the water side of the dykes stretches a long area of low salt flats, high and dry in the low tide but intermittently flooded by high tides. Later today as the storm hit the area’s tall grasses will slow the waves and the flats will absorb some of the storm surge. Engineering again, she ponders. The outer edges of the fields are planted with grasses that can survive the salt wash when a really big storm overtops the dykes and one way drains will let the fields drain without washing away the soil, after the surge subsides. Still she thinks, we could lose a lot of the crop if I don’t get this group motivated to work harder. She jumps up on a crate and shouts out some well chosen inspirational words aimed at her comrades: “Come on you lazy buggers lets get this xx in now” who can beat me and make a full crate in five minutes?”
Across the fields other farm workers and volunteers are tending to the animals, moving the grazing animals into shelters. The animals are more than willing – their senses tell them to get into a protected space. The chickens have been hunkered down all day in their traveling henhouses. Now the houses are being pulled under the wide overhanging roof of the goat barn and tied up to the sheltering concrete wall of the barn. The roof is slatted so that it won’t break apart in the high winds in the hurricanes that have become a regular feature of the fall.
In this region of the Northeast, there has been a revival of small organic farms surrounding and running through the city, all feeding produce to the farmers market network that runs through the neighborhoods. Because some of these also raise animals, chickens, goats, sheep, and pigs mostly, these are a complement to the more high tech vertical farms that grow food in greenhouses right in the center of the city.
The animals are raised to provide milk, eggs and meat. Though most families eat meat much less often these days, it has remained a favorite treat appearing at least once or twice a week in most families’ diets. Chicken and pork are preferred, beef is a true luxury, since the cattle farms were limited to certain regions and a certain size after the ecological damage of their impact became visible to the society. When it became widely understood that the practice of raising animals for meat in CAFO lots was contributing to worldwide flu epidemics the lots were severely restricted and fell out of use. Now the meat is free range, less available and more expensive. But people have found that they are healthier and new menus specializing in protein substitutes and stretching meat for flavor, have taught people how to eat healthier. Beef is especially rare in most diets, its cost reflecting the ecological stress of large cattle herds and the expense of shipping the meat long distances. The old Catholic habit of fish Fridays has been joined by meat Mondays. Chicken is a protein source of choice and eggs are plentiful. Chickens are now kept on most rooftop gardens, their scratching habit used to promote the health of the soil and their droppings used as fertilizer.
Goat milk and cheese are the most popular diary products since tehy is much more widely available. The goats are bred for the taste and yield of their milk. Like chickens many goats can be kept on the small farms in the city, even on the roofs.
Small dairy farms do exist on the edge of town. On the outskirts of the city ornamental lawns have been replaced with sweeping expanses of hayfields to feed the highly valued cows through the winter.
Every farmer in the region is responsible not only for his/her own produce and animals but for the long term productivity of their land. The land is recognized as a valuable community resource and it=s treated as such. The tax breaks for farmers incur with them an obligation to steward the land, maintain the richness of the topsoil and to acknowledge the public interest in the views of the open land. Most farmers also cultivate public support by involving the community directly in some way, like the high school internships, field trips and after-school programs. As a result when one of the hurricanes is forecast, concern for the farms is widespread, as is the pool of helpers who show up.
As the storm aapproaches, the vertical farms and rooftop greenhouses are busy too, making sure all their hurricane protections are in place. The light shelves and solar panels are all pulled flat to the buildings, making them look like tulips tightly closed up for the night. The plants are covered tightly while the lighter greenhouse structures are opened up to let the high speed winds rush through without tearing them apart. The valves to the cisterns are opened to full to capture as much of the rain as they can. The storm water system is likewise put into full capture mode with the deep well reservoirs opened to catch the runoff. All this is done with a few switches at the various control stations around the city. The canal-like pools that run through the greenway are emptied into the underground reservoirs to make room for the torrents of new water that will fall on the city.
The city knows how to hunker down when a really big storm comes. And they do. Even with our sudden reversal of fossil fuel consumption the effects of global climate change are still present and periodic hurricanes have become expected in many coastal cities. The hurricane barrier is used a few times a season to hold back the worst of the storm surges from the sea, but the effects of heavy rainfall on the inland areas is managed in the extensive wetland parks and water channels build to withstand the regular forces of what were once called hundred year storm events. For a few hours or even a day or two in an extreme storm, urban neighborhoods become like islands surrounded by parkland that has turned into lakes.
Because the parks are designed to cope with these events, the roadways and bikeways are on high ground and become like a network of bridges through the lakes out of which rise the big trees. This wholesale transformation of the city’s landscape is a major event in the city, seen as an adventure by the younger set and for the older citizens a reminder of how far the design of the city has come. Buildings are fortified against the winds and so people can feel safe and dry inside, essential services are unimpaired because the land is designed to handle the water and keep the transportation routes open.
Power is distributed, every neighborhood has its own back up systems and no area is dependent on vulnerable exposed power lines. Instead of evacuating the city, people hunker down at home, watching the storm pass. When necessary, emergency personnel bunk down at work and all services keep going. Communication is all wireless and uninterrupted by the storm, which the kids regret as their school lessons are sent home to them over the internet.
Xin looks up again and surveys the fields – this will all look like the rice fields by tomorrow morning she thinks. We will be totally underwater, Let’s keep moving folks, she shouts, urging them on, We are almost done the row!
Her phone buzzes with the message: Storm will hit at 5pm, after harvest party starts at 6.
As predicted the rain begins to fall just after 5pm, the sky is dark and the lights of the city are on in the distance. The very wet dirty and tired volunteers hurry back to the shelter of the barn as the trucks move the harvested produce off to the safety of warehouse. The barn is steamy and warm, the animals are making a ruckus, squawking and lowing. But the well-lit space, smelling of damp hay, feels cozy and protected while outside the winds are picking up.
Add people to barn view
Besides there is that fantastic smell of the pots of hot vegetable stew that have been cooking all afternoon in preparation of this moment. A mug of hot cider is raised by the farm manager, Great work and many thanks to everyone – we got in almost everything – you folks have saved the harvest! Now eat up and get home before the families start worrying about you! Vans will start leaving in half an hour to transport you to your neighborhoods – no skateboarding home in this weather, he says, looking pointedly at Xin. Everyone laughs, then cheers giddy from the exhaustion and sense of accomplishment. They pass around cups of stew, sit on bales of hay and brag about their harvesting prowess. Xin looks around at her crew in the crowd. Today she had six kids from the high school, three of whom she already knew, and three she will now count as new fast friends – nothing bonds a group like a hurricane harvest. She learned that as a freshman the first time she worked one of the crews. Besides the kids, there were two retirees – a wiry older women with an agility and strength Xin admired and a gentleman who was telling stories now about his life as a kid on a rural farm, who would have guessed – he had a career as an academic and college president, but was now retired and finding his way back to the farm. The rest of her group were young professionals, who seemed very happy to be out in the mud for the day, though watching how they moved now, they were going to really feel the pain tomorrow. I hope they can work from home tomorrow, Xin thought. They deserve a day on the couch after this. Maybe we’ll have a storm day too. Just then her science class buddy emerged from the crowd holding a steaming cup of soup – for her! They are loading up the vans Xin. I think we are in the same neighborhood, let’s go.
Xin scambles to find her skateboard and follows Xavier to their ride. Talk about a perfect ending to an exciting day!