Regular readers will know that I love trees. On the Rock Farm we have planted trees for bio-diversity, stock shelter and visual amenity. The Rock Farm also has an amazing history, with ancient eucalypts that I am confident pre-date modern settlement, giant Elm trees from early settlers, and 50 year old tree shelter belts that define some of our paddocks. It is an eclectic mix of trees, of various ages, native and exotic species with different purposes and they all bring their own story and value to the Rock Farm.

Jo and I have talked about removing all stock from the Rock Farm, and creating a plantation of trees. Our harsh climate, irregular rainfall and topography mean we will never grow commercial grain crops on the Rock Farm. But we can grow grass and we can grow trees. Near neighbours have plantations of radiata pine and other neighbours have planted thousands of native trees under forestry conditions. Some plantations are for production, meaning at some time in the future the trees will be harvested. Other plantations aim for conservation, where trees are to be saved. And it has always seemed to me that each approach is mutually exclusive of the other.

This dichotomy has always puzzled me, and many people have taken opposite sides in the production versus conservation debate. Sadly the entrenched sides have often confronted each other with violence, neither side open to seeking an alternative model that meets both their needs.

Rowan Reid has also puzzled over this dichotomy. A forest scientist, his book presents a third way of growing trees. Trees that can be for conservation and for profit. And his story is not based on some theoretical analysis, it is based on his own lived experience on his farm Bambra in the Otway Ranges. His story is fascinating.

I must admit I was a little intimidated by Heartwood when I opened my Christmas present from my wife. At first glance, I thought this would be a technical Silviculture text book with each chapter on how to grow a different species of plantation timber. It is not. Reid winds a thoughtful, indeed beautiful easy to read narrative through each chapter. It is as much an autobiography as it is a journey into the language of trees and timber.

What Reid shows in this book is that there is a place for “new forests that are not primarily commercial but make good business sense,. They don’t look like conservation, yet improve diversity and reduce land degradation., They are not compromises…. They are elegant solutions, appropriate for each owner, their place and the time, which provide a balance of conservation, aesthetics and profit.“

Each chapter investigates a particular species. Reid doesn’t just examine the living tree and its characteristics, such as its ability to stabilise eroded slopes or gullies, or provide winter fodder for stock. Reid also takes the reader into some of the techniques to grow straight tall trees, how to prune the branches and then into the mills, the market and in many cases through to the end user. We see examples of furniture and panelling made from timber that Reid planted at Bambra after he purchased the property in 1987, since grown, harvested, milled and then sold..

The end of each chapter explains the scientific or forestry terms used in the preceding chapter. We are gently introduced to terms such as Geotropic or Phototropic, meaning does a tree grow against gravity or does it direct its growth towards sunlight. Also milling terms such as quartersawn timber or backsawn timber and what this means for shrinkage and expected twisting or warping on boards. You don’t need to delve into these couple of pages if you don’t want to – but they have increased my vocabulary and has allowed me to have confidence that if we are to trial an agroforestry or silviculture paddock, we should be able to produce timber of real value.

Reid reminds us that sixty percent of the Australian landmass is managed by farmers. The primary reason we have lost so many native species in recent times, and have declining soil and water health is not logging for timber but clearing for agriculture. Reid saw an opportunity to develop his blend of agroforestry and decided his calling was to be a forester among farmers. As such, Reid opens his farm to visitors and has established a “Master Tree Grower’s Course”.

Many commercial foresters say my example is too complicated, too expensive and lacking the efficiencies of scale and uniformity that they strive for in their own plantation models. Many of those working in the conservation sector view any form of timber harvesting from Landcare plantings as an anathema and my attempts to mix the two, abhorrent. But the farmers who visit, it’s just common-sense to manage waterways on farms for both conservation and profit.

Heartwood

One of the local farmers who gets it is John, who runs Woodvale near Yass. His enterprise is based on a sheep and forestry operation. I met John several years ago – he introduced us to Wiltipoll Sheep and commenced our journey down the regenerative agriculture path. I joined our local regenerative land managers network a couple of weeks ago to revisit John’s place and look more closely at his forestry operation – planted on the ridges around his property. It can be done – and done locally. John’s trees are now 25 years old, and are looking magnificent, You can follow Woodvale’s story here: https://www.instagram.com/woodvale_australia/

Reid is justifiably proud of his trees, which he sees as a gift to future generations. Whilst many of the trees he has planted have been harvested and many more will be harvested in his own lifetime, there are also those slower growing trees such as Black Walnut that won’t. “The reward I seek – what motivates me – is how our children’s children might think of the person who planted them“. I would argue that perhaps Reid’s greatest legacy is the seed he has planted in the minds of thousands of farmers around the world, who in turn have planted millions of trees. This is a great book for anyone who owns some land and wants a balanced outcome that both improves the soil and water quality, that also makes a return on the initial investment whilst allowing for livestock production.

The best part is you can meet Rowan and tour his magnificent property Bambra during a 2.5 hour ‘lecture in the paddock’. It is going to be on my calendar as soon as I can make it. More information and dates can be found here: https://www.agroforestry.net.au/

Few people have the courage to critically examine the path they are following, and after consideration, deliberately choose to take a different one. Massey not only embraced a new form of agriculture, but has also sought and interviewed others on similar journeys . Call of the Reed Warbler is a book about that change in direction, that looks deep into the heart of modern agriculture and provides an insightful and hopeful vision for the future.

Using the following main themes, Massey explores the relationships between humans and agriculture. He intersects the science, literature and shared experiences with deeply personal insights from his own farm. A practical dreamer, Massey provides real examples of the improvements that can be made with a paradigm shift in mind set. The book is structured along the following themes:

• Regenerating the Solar Energy Function
• Regenerating the Water Cycle
• Regenerating the Soil Mineral Cycle
• Regenerating Dynamic Eco Systems
• Regenerating the Landscape: Role of the Human-Social

All these themes are closely related of course, and because of this there are many stories that overlap and are linked. This means that the same observations are repeated from different perspectives. Massey takes us into the lounge rooms of hundreds of farmers around the world and introduces them to us in a sensitive and endearing manner. We learn about the trials and tribulations that forced many farmers and their families to alter their farming practices and embrace what is now termed regenerative agriculture. By its nature, animals and grazing management is a large part of the story, however also Massey shares stories of those farmers who are using regenerative principles with their cropping, in most cases with outstanding results.

Widely read, Massey quotes scientists, philosophers, presidents and farmers throughout his book. It is clear that the genesis for regenerative agriculture can be traced at least as far back as the origin of modern industrial agriculture. However humans have been making mistakes with agriculture for thousands of years with ignorance and greed playing a part. Massey even quotes Plato, who bemoaned the deforestation of Attica due to grazing back in 360BC.

Massey traces the development of agriculture throughout history. He explains regenerative aquiculture “implies more than just sustaining something but rather an active rebuilding or regeneration of existing systems to full health. It also implies an open-ended process of ongoing improvement and positive transformation. This can encompass the rebuilding or regeneration of soil itself, and of biodiversity more widely; the reduction of toxins and pollutants; the recharging of aquifers; the production of healthier food, clean water and air; the replacement of external inputs; and the enhancement of social capital and ecological knowledge“.

Massey has travelled the widely across Australia and Africa, and the stories within the pages come from the innovative regenerative agriculture pioneers around the world. Massey interweaves their story with anecdotes from his own farm in the Monaro Plains of NSW. Massey’s farm however plays a secondary role in this story, unlike Rebank’s farm which is the star of his book English Pastoral.

Call of the Reed Warbler is not a text book, nor is it a “how to guide”. Rather it is an engaging story showing the breadth of regenerative agriculture practitioners in Australia. Each of these farmers is on their own journey, and Massey hopes to share enough of their stories for readers to find a part that resonates with them. I found old school friends, neighbours and role models in this book. There are techniques mentioned that I will do more research on, and others that aren’t particularly relevant for us here on the Rock Farm.

Massey has created an incredible legacy with this book. It is a elegant manifesto, profound in its observations, complex in its nature yet easy to understand. It is well worth enjoying in front of the fire on cold winter evenings or on those precious rare rainy days… even the dog will agree!

Under the Christmas Tree this year was a wonderful gift from my mother, English Pastoral by James Rebanks. Rebanks is a farmer in the Lakes district in the UK, an Oxford graduate and an expert adviser to the UNESCO on sustainable tourism. You might be forgiven for thinking what is the relevance of this book for a small hobby farm half a world away, but this book captures many of my frustrations with ‘conventional agriculture’ and provides guidance for me in our journey on the Rock Farm.

Rebanks opens his book with a memory of riding with his Grandfather as he ploughed his fields. When he was old enough, his Grandfather started sharing the traditional farming techniques used on a mixed rotational farm. Rebanks loved his apprenticeship, and learnt the old way of farming that had been largely unchanged for hundreds if not thousands of years.

As a young man, he witnessed his Father struggle with the lure of modern agriculture. With the drive for efficiency, farms started to grow in size. Fertilizers and high yielding pasture, along with specialised farms replaced mixed farms. This modern miracle increased yields enormously. But it came at a cost, and rested uneasily with Rebanks and his father.

A watershed moment came when a young woman, Lucy came from a local river conservation charity. With some simple changes, Lucy showed how the water courses running through their farm could be returned to their more natural state. And she had funds to help pay for the fencing that would be required to make it happen. Small changes made more natural areas in the farm, and Rebanks realised he was now a guardian of these wild spaces. This first step changed Rebanks as well as the farm.

Rebanks is a realist. He knows the future of farming lies somewhere between the vast industrial scope of broadacre agriculture with its intensive feedlots, and the small scale mixed farms. He is concerned with the increasingly binary arguments that place farmers at odds with environmentalists. He knows that the old style of farming is hard work. The health of animals and plants is hard work, and requires constant vigilance. I am reminded of the words of Allan Savory who believes all problems stem from poor management.

The idea that land must be either perfectly wild or perfectly efficient and sterile is unwise and blinding; it is a false and unsustainable simplification. When we despair and reduce our world view to black and white – ‘farming’ is bad; ‘nature’ is good – we lose sight of vital distinctions and nuances. We make every farmer who isn’t a saint a villain. We miss the actual complexities of farming, the vast spectrum between those those extremes and the massive scope for nature friendly farming that exists between them.

What I really enjoyed about reading Rebanks’ book was his descriptions of the land and all that lived in it. It was once said to me that a farmer’s footsteps are the best fertiliser. Rebanks embodies this, with his delight in the detail of his farm. He takes us on constant journeys around his farm, and shares the magic of sighting a barn owl in the hunt, the rising of the sun above the mist at dawn, the gentle cow nursing her new calf.

The more I learn about it, the more beautiful our farm and valley becomes. It pains me to ever be away; I never want to be wrenched from this place and its constant motion. The longer I am here, the clearer I hear the music of this valley: the Jenny wren in the undergrowth; the Scots pines creaking and groaning in the wind: the meadow grasses whispering. The distinction between me and this place blurs until I become part of it, and when they set me in the earth here, it will be the conclusion of a longer lifelong story of return. The ‘I’ and the ‘me’ fades away, erodes with each passing day, until it is already an effort to remember who I am and why I am supposed to matter. The modern world worships the idea of the self, the individual, but it is a gilded cage: there is another kind of freedom in becoming absorbed in a little life on the land. In a noise age, I think perhaps trying to live quietly might be a virtue.

This book is beautiful. It is shocking. It has challenged me to take time to get to know the detail of our farm. The wild things that live here, the changes of the seasons, the flowing of the grasses. It has also reminded me that our farm is a luxury. It is a hobby that I love, but I don’t stay up at night worrying about how I will provide for my family.

It seems the lessons of half a world away are equally relevant here too.