How This Farmer is Adapting Her Practices to Weather Climate Change - Lancaster Farming

How This Farmer is Adapting Her Practices to Weather Climate Change | Farm and Rural Family Life | lancasterfarming.com

I wandered down to Lancaster for an ag conference last week. Just for a day, just for a few hours.

But it was one of those situations where — after a day with my peers — I felt reinvigorated about what we do season in and season out. I didn’t feel so alone, and I felt I had been given permission to think about how my work style can change in the face of a challenging season.

After a year of feeling like I was losing steam, maybe getting a bit soft for the job, I learned that even folks with setups exponentially larger than mine were also challenged by the hot, hot summer we just had. The plants were mad, the staff was exhausted and our brains were baked.

We talked about what we are doing for our crews — iced coolers full of hats and bandannas and salt packets. Some folks are bringing their market tents out into the field for longer hand-weeding projects.

Others are changing the shapes of their days, bringing their crews in at 5 or 6 in the morning, taking long breaks in the afternoon or calling it after lunch, and then coming back after dinner for a few hours of cooler, evening work.

Some are working in a way I had promised myself I never would again after I got settled into my home and life a few years ago — headlamp farming into the night.

My initial reaction to all of this was twofold. I immediately felt some relief that everyone else farming in my style was struggling with the same challenges.

OK, so it wasn’t just me having a time last July and August. And we all felt it enough to talk about it in a public forum. That isn’t something everyone always feels comfortable doing, and it indicated the scale and scope of this particular issue.

I also felt some immediate resistance to some of these ideas. Change the shape of my work day? Do I have the bandwidth to rearrange my life for this? Is my crew going to even want to be here if I make some of these suggestions? Is any of this even going to work?

It all felt a bit overwhelming.

That being said, part of what makes our industry so special is the ability to adapt to upheaval and general changes, whether they are financial, technological or environmental.

Farmers are the greatest innovators. And while the practice of agriculture is deeply traditional, we’ve all benefited from learning how to adjust to new developments.

New seeds, new machines, new phone apps, new soil testing services. It’s all a part of what we do. So, when I got my head around that notion, the idea of tweaking the summer work day didn’t seem quite so daunting.

I want to take care of my crew. I want them to see they can have a future in this field without permanently injuring their bodies in the long term.

Does that mean shorter work days spaced over longer weeks? Maybe. Does it mean recognizing our limitations during extreme weather events? I think so.

Does it mean trying out some new strategies to see what works for our individual lives and needs? It’s going to have to, because if I can’t keep pace in the face of a scorchingly hot afternoon, how can I ask anyone else to?

How can I expect someone to return for another season of grueling, brain-melting day labor if I’m not trying to keep us all from keeling over?

But there’s also a prideful sort of mentality with what we do. I love the feeling of accomplishment after a hard day outside, where I really feel like I left it all out in the field.

Does quitting in the middle of a hot day indicate I don’t have what it takes anymore? Last year, I pushed on even in those wildfire smoke days (albeit with a respirator) and between that and a couple of those nastier summer afternoons.

I felt the consequences of going when some other part of me was telling me to stop. I spent a couple days out of commission because of that willing ignorance to ignore what my body was telling me.

I want to feel tough, but I also want to be able to work without having to recuperate from feeling tough. I want to take care of my workers without losing the quality of work we need for good growth.

I want to take care of my plants without sacrificing some of the sustainable practices I have implemented into my operation. And I want to take care of my customers, because a sad, wilted vegetable is not what I want going into the hands and grocery bags of patrons who share their eating experiences with me.

I want to facilitate a healthy working environment and the most successful level of growth I can provide for the product.

When I started to think about the farm like this, adapting and changing stopped feeling like a defeat. It felt like a necessary renovation, right up there with updating the washroom and adding efficiencies to the field plans. It just felt like part of the job.

So, yes. A couple months of the summer are going to look and feel a little different than they have before. I may need to come home in the middle of the day for my paperwork and then head back out after dinner. I may need to say yes to more rest. I may need to dust off that headlamp I’ve been avoiding for the last several seasons.

But if the end result is healthier, long-lasting produce and a happier staff, it’s going to be well worth it. If it means I’ll be flagging a little less when fall comes around, and I’ll be able to continue to do this work in the hot years to follow, I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to keep adapting, learning, and growing.