Permaculture

I had to admit to the irony of it; on the day I left for the Community of the Holy Spirit's Bluestone Farm, I had to wait for the septic tank company to come and pump the tank and inspect it. First I had to dig through about a foot of earth to uncover the tank lids. Then, being an information junkie, I watched his work, peppering him with questions shouted over the noise of the truck pump. Little did I know that his explanation of the workings of the system would be my introduction to permaculture, a word that I had not heard until arriving in Brewster on Thursday afternoon.

Permaculture is usually defined as an approach to designing human and / or agricultural systems that is based on relationships found in natural ecologies. A good example is sustainable land use design: we attempt to create productive systems that harmonize land and its inhabitants. Within a “permaculture system,” the processes of plants, animals, climate and weather cycles and nutrient cycles are all part of the picture. The principles of permaculture can be applied to any environment and at any scale, from an individual home or farm to entire regions and even urban communities.

The core values of permaculture are earthcare, recognition of the earth as the source of all life, and that we humans are part of it; people care, developing healthy societies and ways to live in harmony with our environments; and fairshare, consciously limiting consumption so that the earth's resources are used in ways that are both equitable and wise.

Ideas are one thing, and experience is another. My experiences include tedious weeding in the hot sun, putting the chickens and ducks to bed, waking up the chickens and ducks, collecting eggs, cleaning the coops, harvesting at least a dozen different kinds of greens for the dinner salad. Nothing is wasted; compost and chicken manure fertilize. Food is preserved for wintertime through drying, use of a root cellar and canning. The farm goods are shared through a local Farmers' Market. A series of interns provide labor as they learn. At Bluestone Farm, the rhythm of the farm work is framed by the rhythm of the daily offices and eucharist. There is a weekly sabbath, and each sister takes a retreat day to herself once a month.

I found this an easy life to join; it makes so much sense, and even has echoes of the L'Arche sense of community in it, though in a very physical way. Oh sure, I was sent out to weed a patch of land for the June tomato planting and managed to pull up some plants with value which looked like weeds to me. It is very hard work to do organic farming, and very satisfying to join in the cycle of life which mimics our own “human” cycles of life and death, health and sickness, the petty, the mundane and the glorious.

This morning I went to a local Episcopal church. It is Pentecost, and five infants were baptized. I missed our children. There were two priests; one had a microphone, one did not. I missed our sound system and the way it is consistently used. I managed to make the trek from sanctuary to coffee hour without a greeting. I left without coffee, and missed our welcome. Yet I loved their spirit and good hearts...and the feeding of the eucharist.

This intentional time away is awesome, full of new experiences and also the dreary things left undone in a busy life. The visit to the DMV Inspection Station, the cleaners whose automated cash register accuses me: “Long time, no see!” and, of course, the septic tank.

But darkness has fallen here at Bluestone Farm. I am off to bed down the chickens and ducks.