Peaceful on the farm

Orange bougainvillea outside our bedroom window.

September 7, 2018

In troubled times it's peaceful on the farm.

"I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief... 

 For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." (Wendell Berry)

Once again we're at the end of the dry season (May to September) and hoping for rain to replenish the creeks, the springs, the water table. Our little town of Cocalzinho has already experienced one day without water, and the electric company is charging extra (red flag) because water in the reservoirs that provide hydroelectric power is low. The whole region sits uneasily on the unpredictable area where climate change could result in more yearly rain (to the southwest) or less rain (to the northeast).

Moon rise over the dry cerrado.

What shall I tell you about our lives on the farm since November 2017, when I wrote my last blog entry? In January we discovered a new fruit in the woods, above the bridge we cross when we walk to my son's house - it's pretty and tasty and abundant though we never found out it's name.

In March Guy and I went to the 8th World Water Forum which took place in Brasilia. At first we were excited and hopeful that we would learn much and make connections that would help us in our work with the association we helped create in Cocalzinho, Associacão Nascentes do Cerrado (see Facebook page). Soon we realised however that the Forum was run by corporations, banks and governments with little room for activists that might challenge the establishment. Do corporations want to maintain a sustainable supply of water? Of course - but on their terms, for their profit. Small farmers beware. At the alternative water forum, sponsored by university faculty and students, we saw a film depicting a situation in Peru where an agrobusiness at the foot of the mountains, raising asparagus to ship to Europe, funnelled water from the hills above in cement channels, leaving small farms and pastures high and dry. And another film about Nestle's predatory grab of water around the globe.

We met a few wonderful groups, doing good work protecting headwaters, teaching agroforestry and permaculture, and modelling grassroots techniques of saving and storing water. A group of artists - women who embroider panels showing the rivers and waters of their towns and regions - blew me away. It's a traveling project that this group takes to communities where they teach women  to create their own panels. I'll show you a few that were exhibited in the National museum in Brasilia:

We've continued to work on our cob house, with the help of our neighbor Marli. We finished the walls, built a porch, and worked on the floors.

The back walls of the house

Our chickens enjoying the shade on the new porch

The final layer of the floor

One of our favorite outings was up to the remote road in the hills behind our farm where we found a supply of sand to add to our soil for the floor mixture.

Sand around the road up in the hills                 

Sunset on the way back home

At the end of May we witnessed up close the truck strike that paralysed Brazil for over a week, stopping deliveries of fuel, food, and most other amenities. The majority of the population supported the strikers who were demanding lower diesel prices because the increases had reached an untenable level. Brazil adds very high taxes to fuel prices, close to 50%. 

People from Cocalzinho marching to support the truck drivers - "Together for a better Brazil, We are all truck drivers."

We traveled to the States for a family reunion in July, and visited Zeke and family in Massachusetts, and Sofia and family in Maryland, as well as Guy's cousins and other friends in the Lehigh Valley.

Browne Clan Family Reunion 2018, Catskills, NY 

Back home on the farm we find peace with our trees and flowers, and animals.

Bougainvillea outside the window, quaresma in the background

Cows in the babaçu pasture behind our property.

Susie and Lolita who watched over the farm while we were away.

Signing off, Greta and Guy

November 2017

One of the oldest houses in Cocalzinho

Time has flown by and the rainy season has arrived once more. We give thanks every time it rains because the sustainability of our area is in question as headsprings collapse due to agricultural practices, and streams shrink and sometimes disappear. While we’re aware of climate change around the world, we’re uncertain of its effects in this part of Brazil, but the trend seems to include less rain each year and a decrease of water in the aquifer that sustains this large biome called the Cerrado. Guy and I are working with a few other local people to found an association - Associação Nascentes do Cerrado – that intends to dedicate its efforts, among other things, to restoring the headsprings of our river- the Rio Corumbá. (We have a Facebook page: Associação Nascentes do Cerrado - Asnace)

A few members of our association took a field trip to look at the headsprings of our river.

Thick woods should surround this area where we found a spring that has mostly dried up.
Lacking a good fence to protect the area, cattle break up and tamp down the soil, and winds and flooding wash sand and soil into the stream bed where they choke it.  This is one of three springs at the very top of the Rio Corumbá system - as it dries up the river's flow decreases.

Our group requested an audience with County Council to present an official request that the council members vote against a developer's request to expand the city's urban limits. We know that this developer intends to clear the land around a lush spring and wetland that currently lies outside the city limits.

On the farm we see the results of our first five years on this land. (Guy points out that five years is longer than a college education.) Trees that we planted have begun to bear fruit: bananas, coffee, pitanga, and oranges. 

We have four varieties bananas growing near our house: prata, nanica, maçã, and marmelo.
These are nanica, and they ripen all at once so we had to give more than half of them away.

We are self-sufficient in eggs year round, and in milk during the time that our goats are producing – that would be in the ten months after they give birth. Polly had her second set of twins early this month, and Nellie is supposed to give birth in January, though I see no evidence  - maybe she’s just fat and sassy.

We’ve lived in our brick and mortar house for these five years and it truly feels like home. We designed the house so that we would experience the elements of nature – the view of the sky in the day and at night, sun, moon, and the feel of wind, rain, lightning – while still having enough protection to stay dry and safe. Those of you who’ve been here during a fierce rainstorm know that we’re truly in the midst of it, but also when the sun shines and the breeze blows gently, or when the moon is full, or the night very silent and dark, we experience it all. We’re not always comfortable – right now my feet are cold because the day is wet and dismal – but I prefer some discomfort rather than feeling cut off from the outdoors.

Buit-in openness - October 2012.

Our first house viewed from the site that now holds the cob house.

In the meantime the last wall of the cob house has been completed!