June 10, 2022
Hügelkultur is the practice of creating garden beds on top of berms made of rotting logs and woody debris. The decaying wood provides nutrients and heat as it decomposes, and the porous logs act like a sponge allowing the berms to retain moisture. It’s a centuries old technique made recently popular by an Austrian Regenerative Farmer named Sepp Holzer. Lots of people swear by it – but perhaps they have better behaved pigs than I.
Our pigs would consider any carefully constructed berm an affront to their aesthetic sense and a challenge to their world view. What would take us hours to build would take them but a few moments to flatten. So, even though I believe hügelkultur has merit, we practice something that is more compatible with our animals- a kind of Yankee farmer chicken/pig-kultur. We pile leaves and brush as needed in multiple locations. When the pile is partly decomposed and in need of turning, we throw pig treats, like hard boiled eggs or spoiled tomatoes, into the pile. Unbeknownst to the pigs, they are actually being very helpful as they tear apart the piles and mix in all the leaves, searching for their treats.
In areas of our farm that are prone to erosion, we lay logs on the sloped ground to slow and diffuse rainfall run off. The logs slow the water and trap any topsoil that is in danger of washing away. They also keep the pigs walking “along the contours” which helps to create paths that soon become shallow trenches which in turn also help to divert the water.
We have also, over the years, had many truckloads of wood chips delivered by arborists who are happy to have a free place to dump them. On the ridge where topsoil was scarce and, in some places, nonexistent, the chips, and the topsoil they leave behind, have created the pastures we now enjoy.
I am consistently amazed by the many benefits which one rotting log, or a pile of wood chips can provide. As if out of thin air, the wood quickly becomes colonized by fungi, and then gradually infuses the area with microbes, earthworms, beetles, and an eclectic assortment of other insects. The soil left behind when all the wood has decayed is quite literally filled with life. The chickens scratch up the chips uncovering a plethora of chicken treats that are crawling around just below the surface. They have also learned that when I walk through the pasture, I’ll often move logs in passing to somewhere I think they are needed more. On any such foray, I’ll have a dozen hens and a couple of pigs following me and excitedly watching my every move. Such a mob of overzealous farm animals is surely as close to feeling like a rock star as I’ll ever get in my life – and honestly that suits me just fine.
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