I spent the past several months looking across the Dunedin
Harbour at what is marked on the bus maps simply as "fertilizer
factory." The Ravensbourne superphosphate plant bills itself as the
premier source for pastoral nutrients in New Zealand, and considering the role
of fertilizer in pastoral systems has made me understand something new aboutthe way that explanatory stories operate, especially when they are about
something like food -- something we encounter often, may care about deeply, but
do not necessary have much systemic knowledge about.
The short version of how I've needed to revise my story of
pasturing sheep has to do with understanding of how pastures work. Although I
have known, at various points, that people fertilize grasses and other fodder
to make them grow better (and hence that pasturage represents a potential
threat to water -- frankly, even without fertilizer, potentially, given the
nutrients in animal waste), I found that I still romanticized grassland systems
as, at best, letting animals forage in ecosystems adapted to their grazing.
This is not exactly the wrong story, but it makes me think
about the trajectory of my understanding of corn agriculture: for the first
third of my life, as far as I can remember it, I thought of corn as an
attractive indicator of successfully retained agriculture (even when I realized
it was "cow corn," as we called it in my childhood, rather than fresh
corn for human food). As I studied agroecosystems in more detail and came to
recognize the food landscapes I encountered in the context of their complex
relationships, cornfields became a daunting manifestation of monocultural extractive
landscapes, designed for the most efficient transformation of metabolic
processes into industrial returns on investment. It has taken over a decade of further
exploring corn—growing beautiful varieties in my garden, curating and exchanging
gift corn with interesting stories and geographical histories—to learn to
appreciate some of the further complexity beneath the surface of what appears
to be a repellently stripped down productivist ecology.
The fertilizer factory has helped provide a similar entry point into stories of pastures, making me wonder how others see their complexity. If farmers are compelled to maximize the returns on their pastures such that they become "locked in," as those who study the production of scientific knowledge call it, to the whole system surrounding the relationship between particular kinds of livestock and particular kinds of pasturage (white clover and sheep, for example, despite the better contexts for nitrogen-fixing microbiota that red clover might provide), how can we invite someone just appreciating the pastoral landscape into the whole fascinating world of the political economy of agroecosystems, to debt, the models of nutrients and water flows and soil edaphon, and the many stories that govern how we orient ourselves amidst these complexities?
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