As an Agricultural Sciences student at Oregon State University, my brain is nearly always marinating in sustainable agroecosystem concepts. I fall asleep with thoughts meandering between pollinator concerns, cover-cropping, soil microbes, grazing, and how in the world I fit into the overall picture. I bore my family to death with intricate details of grass growth and legume nitrogen fixation that I find irresistibly compelling. I walk through our hay fields with my eyes on the ground instead of the horizon.
This winter, though, I was given the opportunity to take a break and spend a week in paradise. Despite how much I truly enjoy my studies, I willingly threw all those thoughts and responsibilities out the window as I packed my suitcase. I boarded the flight to Liberia, Costa Rica with every intention of soaking up the sun in my bikini for seven days without even a stray thought given to the lectures, peer-reviewed research papers, and final projects that awaited me. I told myself I wouldn’t spend even a minute pondering ecological concepts or animal feed requirements.
Luckily for me, life is full of surprises. My first glance out the rental car window changed my entire perception of the trip. It turns out that the Northwest province of Guanacaste where we found ourselves is the Central American version of cow country.
Countless herds dotted the tropical landscape otherwise teeming with sugarcane fields, fruit stands, and palm trees. I learned that although Costa Rica is known for lush rainforests, it is experiencing a painful drought reminiscent of what producers at home have experienced in recent years. Water conservation and ecological sustainability have become a daily concern for many. This is a subject I still want to learn more about, and a return trip is high on my bucket list. In the meantime, one aspect of Costa Rican agriculture still has me spellbound: the living fence.
As we traveled the countryside, much of the highway was lined with miles of fence supported by living trees instead of harvested wood or metal fence posts. In a region with ample growing days and an optimum climate, these trees provide shade, habitat for a biodiverse population, as well as that “horse high, pig tight, and bull strong” security we look for. In researching these fences a little further, I discovered that they are prevalent in South America and are used for the obvious purpose of providing a means of keeping livestock contained while also bearing valuable resources like firewood, wildlife feed, and fruit for human and animal consumption. They also provide shade in many areas that have been deforested to make way for agricultural pursuits. The trees are oftentimes planted, maintained, and managed by farmers that rely on their presence in their everyday business. I imagine their integration would seem commonplace to the average Latin American farmer, but to me the living fence seems almost magical. In its simplicity it is at once practical and sustainable.
So, why bother with T-Posts or polywire?
Well…because that’s what our system is set up for. Those tools give us a tremendous amount of power and flexibility.
Okay, yes, but what if there was a way to incorporate a living fence into a permanent section of your operation? Would the benefits outweigh the funny looks your neighbors will dole out when they figure out what that perfectly spaced row of seedlings is really for?
Maybe, maybe not.
I’m not saying you need to run out and rip up your fencing. Far from it actually – I’m simply wondering: are you willing to look at something out of the ordinary and identify its potential value in your system?
If not, maybe you need a vacation too.
This week Chad Fisher talks about Honey Locust as forage for his herd. Would they be a good candidate for creating living fences? Just a thought from Kathy