Last Saturday night, I randomly encountered a fellow farming friend of mine. Without any hesitation, he approached me to say, “Dude, I am stressed.” Those of us farming folk, when we meet up with each other, often elude the normal day to day banter of “How are you?”, “How’s it going?” or even “Hello”. There are more important things to talk about. With all straight candor, the topic immediately became centered on stress.
“Dude, I am stressed,” he said, his face reflected the seriousness of the tone. He mentioned how the multiple rows of produce he planted had resulted in nothing. He had planted hundreds of feet of row in zucchini and cucumbers and the plants grew healthy and large, and then, nothing. And the spinach did not germinate. And… Well, the list is quite long. My reaction, as he described exactly what was happening to my own plantings, was to realize that it was a very bad year for farming for everyone. It is a common trait for us farmers to watch crops fail to our great dismay, but at the same time forget that it is most probably happening to the other local farmers as well. The travails we go through are more linked to weather patterns than to personal efforts. Nonetheless, that fact does not diminish the stress.
Why does a farmer stress when the zucchini plants do not produce zucchini? Why worry over spinach that does not germinate? It may seem like a triviality, but for us it translates into sales, money. The banks that hold our mortgages are protected from the whims of nature. If a season is not conducive to farming, that is not their concern. And so, the befuddled farmer can only look at the many rows of seemingly worthless effort and realize that some other means to keep the bill collectors at bay will be needed.
For most of this season, the spring, summer and fall of 2009, the temperatures and weather patterns normal for any given year just did not appear. “It is a strange year,” I asserted through the first few months. Now I can safely avow, it has been an awful year. There were so many temperature changes out of ordinary for the region that the great majority of produce planted was affected negatively in some manner throughout the season.
The spring was actually generous. There was plenty of precipitation and the early crops grew quite well. However, when spring normally stops, it fought on for a couple more weeks. For my farm, easily fifty percent of the crops planted are of the summer variety; tomatoes, peppers, melons, beans, etc. Each of those crops were two weeks behind in growth due to cool early temperatures. For the tomatoes in particular, this allowed for disease to develop early and significantly diminish all harvests.
The summer, well, there really was not much summer of which to speak. There was a six day stretch in mid-August where the high temperature was over 85 degrees Fahrenheit. There were three days during that time that reached ninety. Normally, an 85 degree high lasts for at least a month and often quite a bit more. Those crops that thrive during the high heat and humidity of a Maryland summer mostly appeared languid, which resulted in very little produce. Normally, in any given year, there is crop failure, but this year there was a lot of crop failure. I remember naively thinking, when I first got into farming, that there was some farmer error that must be involved in crop failure. Now, after having experienced a year like this one, which makes it seem as though our growing zone had shifted hundreds of miles north as far as New York, I realize that even the best intentions and efforts can result in… failure.
For example, if zucchini was grown for their leaves, it would have been a great year for that crop. But it is the delectable fruit that is desired, and for some reason, regardless of the multiple flowers that blossomed throughout the summer, very few zucchini fruit actually developed. It was strange to witness. It was sort of like putting a dollar into a vending machine, watching the desired product drop to the slot below, only for it to disappear. That is actually a rather poor comparison, but what accurately reflects the mysterious workings of nature?,
As the colder months approached, it was quite apparent that the summer crops would not produce what was expected. Even though it was still August, the realization was concrete that it was time to move on to the fall crops. By mid September, most of the tomatoes were done. The fruit was diseased a full month earlier than expected. And I have already mentioned the squash and cucumbers. And, an early cold blast finished them off for good. Over all, the summer season that did not really develop, started two weeks late and ended two weeks early. So there should be a promising fall crop, right?
Alas, that has not been the case either. All of the multiple plantings from salad mix, spinach, head lettuce, fennel and beets to multiple varieties of peas and radishes were planted out “on time”. That term, “on time”, corresponds with a date that on a typical year will allow the plants to grow and produce before the heavy frosts. And here I stress, in a typical year. In the early stages, the crops looked great. However, more early cold temperatures arrived and the growth of the plants were significantly stunted.
And then last week arrived. In mid-October, the temperature dropped to a high in the fifties. By the end of the week, the high did not reach the forties. Plants simply do not grow in such cold temperatures. Having a stint of such aberrational weather in mid-October may not allow enough time in the remainder of the season for the plants to grow enough to be harvested. For sure, some amount of harvesting is possible but nothing close to what was planned or worked toward. As it appears currently, the multiple rows of red beets, snow, snap and shell peas, turnips and carrots probably do not have enough time of suitable temperature in which to grow to harvest size. It has simply been a bad year.
So, as the five weeks of harvest that remain loom in my conscience, I am stressed. Many words of encouragement have been proferred by understanding customers, but it does not alter the sense of frustration. While the thought of all the work involved to ultimately net next to nothing looms in my head, the reality is more difficult to bear. But this situation is the same for most of us market farmers. However, most of us are not aware that we are not going through this alone. For certain, there are quite a few other farmers who have been stressed throughout this out of the ordinary season. In a few weeks, after the season is finished, we may meet each other and commiserate, but that will not alter the many weeks of stress we have to ordeal, nor fill our empty wallets from the multiple crops failures.
Is the customer aware of this? When I met my friend and listened to his grief, the customer was who came to mind. The intention behind this posting is to educate anyone unfamiliar with the ways of farming. And please, if you stop by the market this weekend, do not ask for any tomatoes!