India is a country where water shortages have become so acute that the failed monsoon rains in 2009 had people literally killing each other over buckets of water, and tensions are still rising. (See this video also.) In many places cities are receiving less than half the water their populations need to meet basic requirements, and the constant bickering between individual states often breaks down into violent clashes.

Glaciers that provide melt water in the north are disappearing. and fast. Indians are simultaneously switching to a more westernised diet, which has enormous impacts on water usage, and large scale monocrops for biofuels add to the disaster. Presently 90% of India’s water usage is for agriculture. This percentage is rising, whilst competition is increasing with the growing industrial sector. India’s population is expected to surge to 1.5 billion people by 2050, and the country is still rapidly urbanising – with city dwellers using a lot more water than their rural counterparts. It is predicted that by 2020 most major Indian cities will run dry.

And India is not alone with these problems.

Businesses, of course, are making the most of the situation to cash in on the intense demand. I think it’s time to pay attention to water harvesting words of wisdom, and solve these problems at source – and in doing so also heal the land:

With wisdom and wit, Anupam Mishra talks about the amazing feats of engineering built centuries ago by the people of India’s Golden Desert to harvest water. These structures are still used today — and are often superior to modern water megaprojects. – YouTube

Hat Tip: Robert Windt

And, for good measure:

Further Reading:

• Letters from Sri Lanka – The World’s Largest Water Harvesting Earthworks Project
• The Muffin Tin and the Sponge
• Harvesting Urban Drool
• Water Harvesting DVD
• Water Worries

Often, as I’ve travelled and lived in different parts of the globe, I’ve stood on mountains and beaches and looked around, somewhat wistfully, trying to visualise how those landscapes would have looked a few centuries ago. I’m sure you’ve done it too.

Many, if not most, of these places were once vast tracts of old growth forest, with rich diversity in flora and fauna. Natural biological water cleaning systems were in place, as the hydrological cycle was efficient and largely unmolested by man. Most places still had rich, dark soils and no chemicals had yet been employed to stamp out soil life.

These were the days of 280ppm. We lived then with respect, if not even fear, for a nature wide and wonderful – never for a moment thinking we could one day be the cause of these vast and mysterious systems collapsing wholesale.

But, that was then. The industrial revolution, in combination with the exponential function that has taken the human population into a steep hockey stick incline (it took from the dawn of time until the 1800s before we reached our first billion people, but we’ve multiplied that almost seven times in the two centuries since), has landed us in a world that looks vastly different today.

Reluctantly putting visualisations aside, now as I scan the landscapes in front of me, it’s mostly just cities, tarmac and a massively inefficient waste-of-space large-scale industrial monocrop agriculture. Cycles of precipitation and transpiration have been interrupted as we’ve cut down forests, ploughed the land, and almost universally determined to pipe precious rainwater directly to the ocean. Water tables worldwide are falling and many rivers no longer reach the sea while often the land is parched, eroded and turning to desert.

And, oh, all that carbon! Razing forests and churning soils has been a mass eviction of CO2 into our atmosphere. For the last fifty years – the period we call the ‘Green Revolution’ – we’ve been hastening this process further through additions of soluble nitrogen which results in nitrous oxide emissions (almost 300x more powerful a greenhouse gas than CO2) and which is now also seen to have even further detrimental effects on remaining forests.

Our before-abundant oceans – the massive heat and CO2 buffering mechanism we’re blessed with – are now taking in far too much CO2, changing seawater’s pH to the point where it’s interfering with basic processes for crucial members of the food chain: coral, molluscs and plankton.

Over the last few years I’ve spent considerable time examining these issues. The more I dug into it, the more depressing it got – not only because it’s looking increasingly like we’ve already passed the dangerous threshold (see also) that risks systemic environmental meltdown, but also because popular understanding of the problem is so linear in view. The chain reaction of the almost global recession of glaciers and the melting of the greenland, arctic and antarctic ice sheets and permafrost are the result of greenhouse gas concentrations from the 1980s, with a lot more damage yet to occur from today’s greater concentrations (see here for a summary of today’s noted changes), and yet mitigation has been almost entirely focussed on reducing fossil fuel consumption, only. Being a little ‘less bad’ does not a positive make. We can’t just reduce our emissions, we actually need to be sequestering GHGs out of the air – now! While reducing fossil fuel consumption is imperative, highlighting this alone sidelines the far more holistic course of also reinstating our soils as the massive carbon sink they once were. Increasing soil carbon not only has significant potential to ameliorate the climate change problem, but in doing so we increase soil fertility, improve soil structure (critical for water- and oxygen-holding capacity) and productivity whilst decreasing plant disease and insect attack (think improved nutrition and less chemicals). And, significantly, if we were to take these things a little further, developing biodiverse food forests to relocalise food production, we can also increase heat reflecting cloud cover whilst repairing/reinstating the hydrological cycle that supports all life on earth.

In other words – the focus of governments has only been on reducing emissions and the focus of trigger happy geo-engineering advocates has only been on ‘adjusting’ the world to accommodate our lifestyles, whilst little thought has been given to restoring natural biological mechanisms that would do most of the work for us, better, and for free. Like many aspects of modern civilisation, we find ourselves yet again dealing with symptoms and not root causes.

It’s with these thoughts in mind that I introduce you to The Biology of Global Warming (182kb 8-page PDF), which was originally published as pages 7-14 of the Dec 2006 – Jan 2007 edition of Nature and Society, the bi-monthly journal of the Nature and Society Forum.

The key point of the document is to ask the question why CO2 emissions were already rising before we really made much, or any, headway into mining for coal and drilling for oil. The answer is obvious:

• "Substantial de-forestation and farming of the Middle East, Europe, North Africa and North America prior to 1750 resulted not only in the release of vast quantities of CO2 into the atmosphere through the burning of timber and associated loss of soil organic matter but also the destruction of the carbon bio-sequestration of these forests."
• "…the destruction of up to 80% of the earth’s primary forests by humans during industrialisation could have resulted in a marked loss of natural cooling capacity and therefore increased global warming, particularly as biological systems increasingly need to shade and cool the planet from incident solar radiation."

To acknowledge these simple facts is to get us halfway to working on actual solutions. Harness biology and natural symbiotic relationships, I say, because through imitating natural systems in our food production we can initiate a ‘geo-engineering’ program that comes without side effects or risks and that holds significant promise of providing for human need in a manner that doesn’t put our race at odds with every other organism within the biosphere.

We now have no choice but to address global warming through its primary and initial cause. We need to rapidly re-establish natural cloud albedos and their cooling effects. To do this we need to re-establish the bio-systems that provided the transpiration and cloud nucleation processes on which such cloud albedos and cooling effects naturally depend. To help restore and support these bio-systems we need to biosequester carbon in forests but particularly soils so that they may enhance the natural infiltration and retention of availability soil water on which forest transpiration and cloud albedos depend. – The Biology of Global Warming (182kb 8-page PDF)

Postscript: Although perhaps controversial, I also personally believe that in such efforts we’ll need to quit our narrow views on maintaining only native flora, and work towards building food-providing ecosystems everywhere – systems that mimic natural forests in function but that utilise productive edible plants and trees alongside non-invasive support species.

Further Reading:

• A referenced restatement of the above PDF (PDF)

Inter-row Eucalyptus saligna (Sydney blue gum) & Casuarina cunninghamiana (river she oak) planted in 2000

I recently had opportunity to visit a Permaculture site called ‘Dalpura Farm’, near Geelong, outside of Melbourne. Although (or perhaps, because) designed by Darren Doherty, the very well known Permaculture designer and teacher, it was dramatically different than your average Permaculture site. Rather than an urban edible garden, or a fruit-/veg-/livestock-oriented rural block, this 140-acre property was all about trees.

It’s an experimental agro-forestry project, aimed at finding the best way to produce a range of commercial products and ecological benefits from trees, with timber production being the primary focus.

I contacted Darren, the designer, and George Howson, the owner of the property, to see what it was all about.

Craig Mackintosh: With Peak Oil issues right at our door, sales of seeds and potting mix are going through the roof. But, with the ‘Dalpura Farm’ project, you seem to be saying we should be thinking beyond just cauliflowers and cabbages. Wood, prior to the industrial revolution, was always the main source of fuel for humanity. Is any of the motivation behind this particular project connected with future resource constraints?

Darren Doherty: Well the focus at Dalpura was from the start influenced by the fact that the developer was an absentee landholder and we had tenants in until just a few years ago…. They showed only a little interest in what we were trying to ultimately achieve so you could say we started at the back gate and have been working towards the back door ever since. Our main priorities were to develop a site that could achieve multiple outcomes, with a particular focus on valuable managed timber plantations and silvopastoral systems following Keyline™ Design methods, where we treat the whole site as one big water catchment rather than concentrate on using technologies such as swales as many in Permaculture do.

The soil is the cheapest place to store water and we have lifted the SOC level on these very poor, laterised Tertiary Gravels (the region’s largest gravel mine is right next door and Dalpura shares its geology!) from about 2% when we started up to around 6%+ which has made a huge difference to the performance of the various plantings on the site, and therefore the water & mineral cycles have improved radically over the whole site where we have done work. This is despite the fact that rainfall has been very much less than average over the period since we started back in 1996.

The world is short of topsoil and that is the foundation of everything and as I like to say, ‘…..we have to be Blue, before we can be Green or Black….’, meaning we need water (blue) before we can photosynthesis (green) and therefore build carbon (black). I have never been one who has focused on resource constraints as such, rather we have always developed low cost solid state systems that would ultimate yield in any situation.

New revegetation planting (2009)

George Howson: While the primary goal of the forestry plantations is to produce high quality, feature grade timber for furniture and joinery, the systems are designed with multiple products and purposes in mind. I had used a number of native Australian timbers as features in a range of energy-efficient, inner-city housing developments in Geelong in the early 1990s, and was keen to grow the timbers myself and promote their attributes. At the time I formulated the brief, and Darren designed the initial systems, the aesthetic qualities of Australian timbers were generally under-appreciated, and I saw an opportunity to do something about it on a very small scale. I was also predicating the future economic and other values on the likelihood that timber supplies from native forests will be progressively locked up, and that small scale farm forestry is a better way forward in both social and ecological terms.

Other intended products from our trees at ‘Dalpura Farm’ include harvesting seed; fire-wood; poles from thinnings for orchard fencing and garden structures; and the possible production of shiitake mushrooms on farm-grown logs. Stock fodder systems are also a core element in future planning, with integrated grazing along Holisitic Management lines an enterprise currently being explored.

Wetland Crossing Dam, a concept developed by Darren Doherty as an alternative to
conventional concrete culvert/end wall. Nothing planted: all self-established
vegetation. Built by Paul ‘Ringo’ Kean in 1.5hours with a D5 in 2007. Acacia
implexa (lightwood) & Eucalyptus leucoxylon (yellow gum) complex (1998)
in background.

CM: I noticed the trees were planted in swale-type formations, except angling up from valleys onto the slopes rather than running on contour. Could you give us more details on this, and tell us the reasoning behind such a design?

DD: There is not a swale on the property. I have never been much for swales in this part of the world or many other places where I can use the geometry of Keyline™. I understand and use swales where I feel they are an appropriate patterning, but find that in plantation (or orchard) settings the use of the geometry of topographic contours is awfully problematic due in large part to the lack of equidistance between contours, leaving turns to often occur within the planting itself: this is a pain to say the least when it comes to management operations.

The lack of equidistance of contours also gives you the following issues:

1. Can’t fit as many units into a given area
2. Can’t obtain tree offset patterning so important in tree system design
3. Much more difficult to set out the design: with Keyline™ geometry you mark one line and then do a series of 90° offsets off of the 1st line.
4. The drift of runoff (on the rare occasion it now happens) towards the ridge in our system at Dalpura is an application of the Keyline™ geometry. The rationale behind the mounds themselves were to increase the internal drainage characteristics of the soils together with water harvesting. These mounds were constructed using two opposing discs attached to the Yeomans Keyline™ Plow which was subsoiling at the same time.

Sometimes I sense that people use & recommend contours because it is an easily transferred technology, whereas Keyline™ geometry requires a much more detailed understanding of topography that is easily and very often confused. Our application of Keyline™ geometry over the years has become very complex down the point where we are able to create completely symmetrical layouts whilst working on curves. This is difficult to do and requires the following:

1. Electronic topographic survey (ie. Total Station) of the landscape
2. CAD layout planning
3. Set-out of the site using Total Station to accurately reflect the CAD design on the landscape

This might sound like a long-winded process to many, but to us it is about optimisation of all of the outcomes we are after. Namely:

1. Client Satisfaction
2. Landscape Harmony
3. Water-use Efficiency
4. System Performance
5. Ease of Management & Harvest

The use of this whole process with Dalpura’s 1998 planting was made even more important by our ground preparation contractors clearing all the scant layer of topsoil in what was an executive decision that was quite disastrous when your soil is basically gravel! So we really started behind the 8 ball when we took the job back from these contractors. This only vindicates the whole process that we ultimately undertook.

Inter-row Acacia dealbata (silver wattle), and regrowth from thinning (foreground)
with Eucalyptus microcarpa (grey box) planted in 1998. Cam Wilson centre.

GH: All the various forestry systems across Dalpura Farm are planted in tree mounds aligned on ‘Keyline pattern contours’, which direct the natural water flow from the valleys or drainage lines out across the slope towards the crest, as per the pioneering work of P.A. Yeomans. The mounds act as mini-swales, intercepting and spreading the rainfall across the site, helping to distribute it more evenly to all the trees. The gutters on the sides of the tree mounds also act as temporary catchments following heavy rainfall events, increasing the efficacy of interception and storage of run-off, & retaining moisture in the landscape for longer.

CM: You had quite a variety of tree species planted. Can you tell us about some of them, and about any particular relationships going on there. And in what other ways does Dalpura differ from your average, conventional forestry project?

DD: There are about 120 species that have been planted at Dalpura overall. In the 1998-2002 plantings we installed around 20,000 trees and about 20 species (I have detailed records at home but am in Mexico at the moment so referring to memory!). Following 2002 we then started to run out of room and we wanted to plant more trees as per our original layout plan of 1996/7, so started to plant out the pastoral areas of the property. These plantings included more non-timber product species along with timber species; plantings that were a Permaculture/Keyline™ spin on J. Russell Smith’s 1927 classic, ‘Tree Crops: A Permanent Agriculture’. I call this kind of thing Keyline™ Mark IV as neither Yeomans Snr. nor Jnrs. ever applied Keyline™ in this way to my knowledge.

The project differs obviously from the industrial forest production where large areas of single species, often with cloned genetics are grown, where often biota are controlled chemically and the whole planting is clear felled at the end of each rotation. At other farm forestry sites it is common to follow a similar process only on a smaller more integrated scale. Here obviously we are integrating and including many species, including fauna and multiple methodologies of both landscape patterning but also management regimes. It’s a lot more complicated that’s for sure.

In the 1998-2002 plantings we were intent on developing a mixed species layout where the various species complexes (typically made of two species in each complex) were placed according to soil type and aspect. We basically decided this from the initial ‘high-level’ planning and then when the rows were prepared and the trees grown and delivered we then made the decisions to ultimately place the trees as a planting team. We had a great crew with us on that job, made up of new and old heads and it was an interesting process that did and didn’t work. What didn’t work was more a function of tree genetics than anything else, plus some pest animal issues as well.

New revegetation planting (2009)

Each complex throughout these systems are composed of a non-legume (all Eucalypts except for Grevillea robusta). In the 1998 systems we experimented with inter-row layouts where we would have the following layout as an example:

The specific intent of this layout (3m x 3m) was to have the fast growing Acacias (either Acacia dealbata or A. mearnsii) grow fast and fill the canopy quickly forcing the slower growing Eucalypts to ‘search’ for the available ‘light well’ and therefore reduce side-branching and improve on their form. This has and hasn’t worked. Though with some of the species we are working with they are very slow growing and their Acacia partners were perhaps too fast, though we are still waiting to see the full effect of this over time.

Otherwise in the 2002 planting we went a lot more ‘conventional’ with the following layout:

This appears to be a much better layout overall and so we are sticking with this one by and large. We have dabbled here and there with interplanted layouts in the main forestry complexes but have found they are more cumbersome when on a larger scale. That said on some sites we have worked with such as at Geelong Grammar School (1999-2000) and at the Shell Refinery at Corio (1999-2001) inter-planting worked quite well.

This kind of layout goes like this:

It all comes down to being what works for the forest ‘sociology’, which is reflected in tree performance and how easy it is to manage the systems especially when it comes time to thin the systems. Then things start to get much more complicated. These are times when you can appreciate why industrial foresters go for single height class, single species systems: but then a forest isn’t made of one species and one height class is it?

In 2000 we planted a paddock with a interesting array of ‘Tree Crops’, most of which were exotic species. This paddock we know as TC8 (all species complexes across the farm are individually codified) and it has three rows of Tree Crops at 5m row spacings every 24m. This system includes classic tree crops such as Gleditsia triacanthos var. inermis (thornless honey locust), Ceratonia siliqua (carob), Morus nigra (black mulberry), Quercus ilex (holm oak), Q. suber (cork oak), Q.robur var. fastigiata (fastigate english oak) plus Cytisus palmensis (tagasaste) and Atriplex nummularia (old man saltbush) as interplants between all of the tree crops. This system had ‘Leaky Hose’ subsurface irrigation installed in 2003 and is going along quite well, except the tagasaste’s have been hit pretty hard by the ‘roos.

From 2004 we were filling in the gaps ‘up the back’ of Dalpura and we decided to get a lot more complex with our plantings in the remaining places free to plant. So this involved very complicated layouts with lots of species: some of which were really pushing the edges of experimentation. Some suffered accordingly as they revealed themselves to not be suited to the site whilst others have thrived and have led to further planting of those species. We also experimented with using very tall plastic tree guards due to the kangaroo predation throughout the property on some of the plantings.

Walled garden and new orchard. Polewood in foreground from 2004/5 thinnings
of 1998 plantings of Acacia dealbata & Acacia mearnsii (late black wattle)

GH: The initial native forestry systems were planted between 1998-2002. They cover ~18 hectares, and include sixteen species of Australian trees (nine species of Eucalypts, four Acacia species, two Casuarinas and Grevillea robusta). Since then we have broadened our species selection, experimenting on a small scale with mixed plantings of Acacias and Northern hemisphere hardwoods (a range of oak, ash, beech, elm, cherry, walnut, liquidamber and many others).

A key long-term goal with the timber plantations is to enhance the soil fertility within these systems, both for its own sake and to enable the growing of a wider range of species 30-50 years down the track. In terms of building soil fertility the purpose was to harness the benefits of interplanting nitrogen-fixing, leguminous trees such as Acacias with Eucalypts and other broad-leafed species. The diverse range of species leads to a richer and more complex mix of minerals and microbial life in the litter layer that is continually forming on the forest floor.

Probably the main difference between our approach to silvicultural management and that of other farm forestry growers is our system of managing the inter-row areas. We allow revegetation to occur naturally between every second row (predominantly pioneer undergrowth species such as prickly ti-tree, hedge wattle, prickly moses and also a range of native heaths, various grasses and ground covers, mosses and lichens…), mulching the alternate rows to maintain access for silvicultural management work and timber extraction. This system mimics a forest ecology, with the various tiers of vegetation performing a range of functions in the system – improving the soil below the surface through root action, and increasing the amount of organic matter deposited as forest litter (leaves, sticks, seed, branches and bark; bird droppings and animal scats…); acting as protective habitat for a greater number of birds and insects; & also reducing evaporation and mitigating the effect of damaging winds on the timber trees etc.

As well as this, we manage the coppice re-growth of hardwood species as a follow-up to our thinning regime, in order to create multiple-aged trees within a uniform-age-class plantation. Ultimately, around five-to-ten specimens of each species will be retained per hectare as semi-permanent inhabitants of the system. They will be used as a source of good quality seed for growing seedlings from that species, and will carry out all the ecological functions that mature trees perform in what will effectively become an analog forest.

Indifferent form displayed on Eucalyptus tricarpa. Poor genetics we think.

CM: As you’re trying things in forestry that might not have been ventured before, you’ll obviously be on an experiential learning curve, discovering some species and design aspects that are working well, and some that aren’t. The time frames involved in growing trees are considerable, so learning what we can from your experience could save people many years of wasted effort and expense. Can you give us some insights from your learning curve with this project. What worked, what didn’t, and what would you do differently? I noticed for example, that some species tended to be a bit crooked, perhaps not so good for using as timber, and some were stunted in growth, etc.

Some of your lessons will be location-specific, affected by regional climate, and also other factors like kangaroos, etc., but some will be lessons that can be applied in other countries and climate zones. Perhaps we should separate these for the benefit of all.

DD: As I have already mentioned the brief was the outset was clear, and George has enunciated it clearly in this interview. Quite a few well known Permaculture practitioners (including: Cam Wilson, Paul ‘Ringo’ Kean, Derek Ashby, David Holmgren and David Griffiths) have worked or advised at Dalpura Farm over the years and found things of interest there. It is a difficult site with its soils and the average rainfall since we started has been much less than average so its not what you would call an ideal site from that perspective. A few have been quite disparaging about what we have been doing, often though they have focused on some of the various system’s misgivings such as those you mentioned.

That said we felled trees in 2003/4 that were planted in 1998 and then ultimately milled and dried these for furniture after that. We have radically increased the biodiversity values of the site due to our layout style and management regime. The bulk of the systems are in good shape and we will continue ad infinitum to obtain timber and forest products from this site. We and others will continue to learn from George’s munificence and the different influences that all of the project’s players have had over the years. The current manager Matty Fahey is doing a great job and I can’t wait to see what the place looks like after nearly a year away. There is so much to see there and it is one of the sites in my portfolio that I learn the most from, and I am not the only one.

Biggest lessons?

• Start small but experiment on the edges and nooks widely
• Go and check out others sites in your region or regions with similar climates
• Do a Master Tree Growers Course (www.mtg.unimelb.edu.au)
• Subscribe to Australian Agroforestry (www.mtg.unimelb.edu.au)
• Join your local Farm Forestry network
• Use high quality tree genetics from mixed, tested provenances
• Work with high quality nurseries
• Ensure high quality ground preparation and prepare a year or two ahead of planting
• Get the fungi going – mycorrhizal when planting and saprophytic when thinning
• Practice silviculture regularly: as our great, late mate Joe Polaischer used to say, "its working man’s yoga!"

Quercus robur var. fastigiata (fastigate oak) silvopastoral system planted in 2000

GH: There is a fair amount of truth in Chou Enlai’s observation that "it’s still too early to tell". We are attempting to create inter-generational forestry systems along the model of Northern European practices starting from a fixed point in time. A number of the trees being planted are not intended to be harvested until well beyond my lifetime, and some past my childrens’ life times as well.

Part of the strategy of Darren’s design thinking was to plant a variety of species which have staggered time-lines from planting to harvest. The Acacia mearnsii and A. dealbata (Late black wattle and Silver wattle) are expected to be ready for harvest at around 15-20 years old, whereas with the River red gums and Red ironbark (Eucalyptus camuldulensis and E. tricarpa) we are looking at 35 years+. And with Californian redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) and some other species we are probably looking at 80-100 years+.

Ironically, some of the trees exhibiting poorer form which you refer to are ones like Red ironbark and Yellow gum (E. tricarpa and E. leucoxylon), which are indigenous to this area, and adapted to growing in gravelly soils with moderate rainfall. We have found that trees do not respond entirely predictably to new and unfamiliar conditions. Experimentation with a wide range of species often brings surprising results.

Lessons applicable in region: Establishing the plantations on a Keyline layout has been invaluable, and is particularly applicable to lower rainfall regions. Our historical rainfall is around the 24" (600mm) mark, but having experienced a number of below average years since planting, capturing and utilising the available rainfall has been critical in the trees’ development, and, in some cases, survival.

One of the main unanticipated problems has been kangaroo predation on certain species, especially Blackwood and Lightwood (A. melanoxylon and A. implexa), as well as many of the exotic broad-leafed species. We have evolved a guarding system to deal with this predation, using 2m tall plastic guards attached to 7′ hardwood stakes. While the initial capital cost and follow-up labour is not cheap, we have been able to re-use the guards a number of times over.

Lessons applicable almost anywhere: Leaving every 2nd row to natural re-vegetation, and mulching to increase the breakdown of woody organic matter and provide more fungal food for soil biota.

Experiment with a broad range of species, and allow time to observe how they respond to a new environment. For example, Sugar gum and Spotted gum seedlings (E. cladocalyx and Corymbia maculata) were planted close to one another back in 1998. The Sugar gum boomed after the first couple of years, whereas the Spotted gum suffered from frost events in their early years, and were probably about 1.5m tall on average compared to the Sugar gums’ 8-10m after five years’ growth. However the Spotted gum has gradually taken off, and caught the Sugar gum in spite of the initial growth differential.

Close up of the magnificent Eucalyptus tricarpa

CM: This property is 140 acres, but do you think there’s anything the average guy on a quarter acre could be doing along these lines as well?

DD: Forestry can be done anywhere and Geoff’s ‘Food Forest’ video shows that the elements of forestry expand on the view we’ve been putting out there for a long time now: That the structure of forests never changes much wherever you are, rather it is the species that change, though their roles as life forms don’t within each forest. A forest is also made up of more than just the plants: it is a living, dynamic and ever evolving system that includes all of the kingdoms of nature.

As for your ¼ acre block, food forestry will be your best bet due to the practical issues of felling trees for timber production etc. By and large it will be non-timber forest production. That said you can do some very creative kerb-side coppicing for the rocket stove! Urban mixed species, multi-purpose agroforestry in the Zone 3 & 4 landscapes of our urban and peri-urban spaces makes a huge amount of sense as we move into the ‘new carbon’ economy (as opposed to ‘old’ or fossil carbon) where our wastes are cycled locally into a range of high quality products.

Echium candicans (pride of madiera) bee forage avenue planting (foreground) with
Cytisus palmensis (tagasaste) nurse planting in Keyline parkland

CM: And finally, a question specifically for the owner, George Howson: Investing time and money and ignoring potential lost income from the land in the interim takes some determined long term thinking. Can you give us a rough idea of investment cost, and expected returns?

GH: I think that any evaluation of the financial returns on specialty timber growing is ultimately academic, given the extended time-frames we are dealing with before many of the trees are ready for harvesting. Many of the intended returns from this project will not be measurable in economic terms. However, to answer your question as best I can, my underlying assumption has been that farm-grown timber will appreciate in value in excess of CPI over its financial life-cycle, and that the capital value of the property, and increased production potential due to increases in fertility levels, will generate growth in excess of the value of comparable rural land. Unfortunately, I won’t still be around by the time this project is really coming to fruition, and beginning to realise its true economic/aesthetic/ecological/social and farming potential.

One of the hidden benefits of working on a project of this nature has been the development in my own skills and knowledge as a designer. Working with Darren and other people such as Dave Griffiths of Geometree, and watching how systems evolve and develop over many years has been a great education. Very challenging at times, exciting and tremendously satisfying at others, but overall a richly rewarding journey.

Xanthorrhoea australis (austral grass tree) detail

Outsiders who think of the Northwestern United States as an expanse of evergreen forest neglect the predominance of this other landscape. Even locals tend to forget that before there were crops, much of the region was semi-desert, a sea of sagebrush seldom more than waste high. Long before I reached Milner Dam, hundreds of square miles of irrigated desert told me of its presence.

The dam was unimpressive in construction, and not more than eighty feet tall. It did not cling to scenic canyon walls like the famous Hoover Dam. The reservoir it backed up was shallow and weedy. There is only one thing notable about Milner Dam; it is where the Snake River ends. The Columbia Basin is the most heavily dammed watershed on the planet. But of its 76 large dams, Milner is the only one that halts a whole river. The day I visit, a mere trickle escapes over Milner’s walls. The resulting stream is small enough to step over. In the past, there have been occasions when no flow escapes at all. Starting in Yellowstone National Park, and draining over 35,000 square miles, what is left of the mighty Upper Snake is whisked away by Milner’s massive twin canals.

I’d long known about the depletion and pollution of my region’s aquifers, the near extermination of the salmon runs, the saltation and erosion of the soils, the loss of habitat to agriculture, and everything else the big dams meant. I knew of the brutal water wars, of plans for the construction of still more dams and canals. I knew of droughts, and still more drought anticipated with the changing climate. But seeing Snake die had me more concerned than ever about water. And as it turned out, water became a pivotal theme in my trip.

My next stop was the FNA Ranch, in West Central Idaho, to see my friends, the Pagliaros. The Pagliaro’s property occupies the margin between the vast Palouse wheat growing region and the largest wilderness area in the lower 48 states. The family had recently moved here from Las Vegas, eager to pursue a lifestyle they refer to fondly as permaculture. Idaho is overrun with urban refugees and homesteaders stalking the simple life. The mountains are dotted with hobby farms and cabins of all kinds. But from the moment one sees it, it is obvious that the Pagliaros are doing something unique with their land.

A large pole barn with steel roof has become the base of FNA’s operations. Such structures are commonplace in the vincity, but the Pagliaro’s is the only one I’ve ever seen fitted with gutters, pipe, and large tanks. In fact, in my entire life, the Pagliaros are the only people I’ve met who collect rainwater. As a child, I remember helping my father route the rain gutters of our home to a gravel filled channel that ran off of our properly. The idea was to keep the rainwater from washing away our lawn (which we irrigated from the aquifer with automated electric sprinklers). At FNA, the policy is to collect as much rainwater as can be contained. The full brilliance of this strategy can be fully understood only when one considers the constraints of the local climate.

The reason that evergreen trees cover much of the Northwest is because they are supremely adapted to dormant season precipitation (unlike deciduous trees, which require more growing season rain). Despite plentiful snow, the shrub steppes and lower forests of the Northwest are so dry in the summer that they are considered semi-arid. In other words, the Northwest bares the misfortune of receiving most of its moisture in the winter, when plants cannot use it. And because of the region’s mountainous topography, much of this winter moisture runs off, into swollen rivers, when the snow melts in the early spring. Climate models predict that snowmelt will be happening earlier in the years ahead, making things still more precarious for thirsty plants.

Lack of growing season water presents a crucial problem to farmers growing non-native crops. The agriculturalist’s solution has been to store winter runoff behind massive in-stream dams. The Pagliaro’s solution is contrastingly small scale, simple, and rational. Using rain-fed water tanks that never seem to go dry, this family has plenty of water for their garden, their animals, and their household. Their pipes and tanks represent one less straw sucking away at the West’s diminishing stream and ground water. It’s reason to hope.

The rain-tanks aren’t the only way the Pagliaros are trying to store water. Plans are underway for a series of level earthen water catchments called swales, which will intercept runoff on the sloping land and soak it into the soil. But these swales won’t be planted to conventional crops like wheat or potatoes. The swales will receive a planting of tree and shrub crops, which are better adapted to using deep soil moisture. I am helping the Pagliaros come up with a diverse mixture of food producing trees and shrubs which will be suited to the local conditions, many of which are native. The result will be a “food forest”, a situation in which plants and associated animals coexist and benefit each other mutually, much like a native forest. Eventually, the food forest itself will help conserve water, by shading the ground, and protecting soil moisture with a thick layer of humus.

My next stop is in Southeastern Washington State. Despite being famous for Seattle’s rain, parts of Washington receive as little as 12” of precipitation annually. My friend Bill is tenacious enough to live in one of these parts, getting his own permaculture homestead off the ground. His property is surrounded by the bleakness of wheat growing country; dry, empty, and ugly. It is not well known what Southeastern Washington looked like before the wheat fields. Intact examples of this particular ecosystem are rarer than old growth forests are on the coast. However, I am fairly certain that trees have not naturally occurred here since the Ice Age.

Bill has a water problem. This wouldn’t be so bad if Bill could grow desert crops (palms, mesquites, and olives come to mind). But Eastern Washington winters are only barely conducive to peaches, freezing solid any hope of a desert oasis. As if to spite Bill further, Washington State has made it illegal to harvest rainwater. Helping Bill make an Eden out of his freeze-dried forty acres has been a fascinating puzzle.

A breakthrough in that puzzle came as a lesson from nature. “Scabland”, is a term used to describe the parts of Southeast Washington which are too rocky to grow wheat on. These scablands are comprised of coulees, cliffs, and mesas, eroded into basalt bedrock. The walls of such formations often have piles of broken rock about their base. Being a berry enthusiast, I noticed that the best place in the steppe to find serviceberries was on the north side of such rock piles. In fact, the north sides of a rock piles are about the only places that stay green in the summer. Research revealed that botanists had already named this phenomenon, calling it a “talus garland community”. I’ve since become obsessed with talus garland communities.

Such communities support plants that would otherwise be found only along streams. Talus garlands support the primary native pome and stone fruits (Amelanchier and Prunus), two species of currant, an elderberry, several hawthorns, roses, edible greens like nettle and goldenrod, as well as naturalized species like cherries, plums, apricots, grapes and apples.

It seemed obvious to me that mimicking a talus garland would be a great way to grow woody plants on Bill’s dry land. But before we tried to build such a mimic, we tried to understand how they work in nature. Why are talus garlands so green? We came up with several theories:

• Shade from the southern sun minimizes evaporation and causes winter snow to melt later in the year
• Drifting snow collects in the loose rock
• Piled stones condense moisture from night air (thanks to the Designers Manual for the hint)
• Stones protect soil moisture from sunlight and arid air
• Stones minimize competition from grasses
• Stones protect plants and debris from fire
• Freshly eroded basalt provides ample mineral nutrients
• Stone provides an ideal growing surface for lichens, which speed the breakdown of rock and fix nitrogen (lichens are the primary nitrogen fixers in some deserts)
• Loose stone provides some protection from browsers, especially during early growth
• Stone piles provide habitat for animal associates, like packrats, cottontail rabbits, marmots, chipmunks, snakes, lizards, ext. Animal associates distribute seeds, provide manure, control pests, ext. (Rabbits and marmots are very tasty themselves)

Research revealed that “stone mulch” had been used to grow everything from grapes to cotton in Old and New World deserts since ancient times. However it worked, rocks were the trick we needed. And so Bill and I formed plans to build a waist-high wall of stone mulch over his long abandoned lawn.

Ironically, homesteaders of the past had made every effort to rid their land of stones, and finding large piles of this unwanted material was fairly easy. Bringing the stones back to the land felt somewhat vindictive. In a matter of hours we constructed a pile a few meters long. The finished product was crude but natural looking, a Zen rock garden of sorts. I’d brought along some Cherry Plum pits I’d collected at the Pagliaros and scattered them about the rocks.

Only time will tell how our experiment will fare. Yet as I drove back to work, whizzing past the grandeur of the land I love, I knew that the answers where out there, somewhere. Seas of green forest, roving herds, and wide clean rivers were still thriving in spite of human mistakes. It seemed that if we could only tap into that wild vitality, there would be no need to suck the West dry.

Kanawai. Ka-na-wai literally means “belonging-to-the-waters”. Under traditional Hawaiian law it meant the equal sharing of water. The Hawaiian people planted taro farms along water systems shared by everyone. A farmer took as much as he needed, then closed his inlet so the next farmer could get his share of water. This meant using only what was needed and looking out for your neighbor’s needs. Unfortunately for the island of Moloka’i (and most of her sister islands) the big agricultural corporations that use the majority of the island’s water reserves, “got no Kanawai”. This didn’t sit well with Permaculture co-founder Bill Mollison when he spent time on Molokai twenty plus years ago, and next month we’ll let the people of Molokai know that it doesn’t sit well with us (PRI USA).

Few realize that due to deforestation and overuse by corporate farms, Molokai is facing a water shortage of epic proportions. Reserves intended for farms on Hawaiian Homelands are being over-tapped by industrial farms, resulting in shortages of available water for family farms. We can try and fight the man and push for better legislation on water use, or we can dig in and share what we already know. Bill Mollison has taught volumes on creating and harvesting rainwater. Rather than waste our time chasing windmills (another subject entirely), we’ve decided to put his knowledge to work.

click for full view

Volumes can, should, and have been written on the subject of deforestation and resulting droughts. In the name of ranching and industrial agriculture, thousands of acres of trees have been removed from Molokai’s leeward (western) side. Easter Island serves as a prime example of how an island (or any land) can’t survive without trees to attract and re-circulate rain. Ocean surface water evaporates into air, where wind blows inland. Of the rain that falls, 25% again re-evaporates from tree crown leaves and 50% is transpired, adding moisture to clouds. These clouds travel on inland to rain again. From this process, trees multiply actual rainfall. As air rises inland, precipitation and condensation increases.

In nature, even domesticated animals have the instinct to find drinking water. Large leaves serve as water bowls, providing sufficient water for any animal intelligent enough to gather it. As humans, our intelligence is often lacking in such matters. But, through earthworks, such as swales, we can catch rainwater and reduce evaporation. Swales are passive rainwater harvesting features, built as a series of ditches on contour to the landscape. Each swale has a soft mound of uncompacted soil and organic material on its downslope outer bank. Swales collect and hold residual rainwater, soaking it into the ground and the associated swale mound. They also re-charge groundwater. Trees, an essential element to swale systems, are planted along the banks. Their roots condition and aerate soil and they make transpiration possible. Even minimally sloped landscape (nearly flat) can efficiently store scarce rainfall, and create gardens from desert. Catch, absorb, and intentionally distribute. Water harvesting is the only working solution to industry-created drought.

Swale building

As an island formerly known for its agricultural wealth, Moloka’i was once considered “the richest of the Hawaiian Islands”. Now residents wait for weekly barges to bring food. Enough already. It’s time for action. A local effort to revive a once highly productive fish pond system is already underway. In our continuing effort to help secure a sustainable food supply for Moloka’i we’ve reached out to endless sources. Federal, state, and non-profit agencies, all flying the sustainable flag, continue to ignore the only sustainable solution to food security. Permaculture. It’s silly to expect support from the very system that made the mess. A movement for “Permanent-Culture/Agriculture” is after all about us saving our own asses. Let’s do it.

On November 15th, PRI USA will continue its efforts to re-create an agriculturally sustainable Molokai. With returning course instructor Andrew Jones, and co-instructor Nichole Ross, we’ll work on establishing food security at two distinct sites; a two-acre homestead in arid Kawela and a modest food-forest designed to provide locals with a community food supply. Both sites were designed last spring when PRI USA taught it’s first Permaculture Design Certification Course at the Kawela site. This course is an opportunity for hands-on experience implementing a Permaculture design. Through various earthworks and composting, we’ll lay the foundation for productive and self-sufficient food forests. Mature food forests will help increase food security for Molokai’i and they’ll attract and recharge diminishing rainclouds. More trees, mo’ bettah.

Click here for information about the 7-day course (tuition deeply discounted for Moloka’i kama’aina) and here to make your tax-deductable donation to this grass-roots effort. The class is filling up quickly, which gives us hope.

Perhaps the people still got Kanawai.

Last time I spoke about the world’s largest earthworks project – an incredible and unrivalled example of large scale water harvesting. Today we continue the tale, highlighting the beautiful and practical Kuttam Pokuna, or Twin Pools, found at Anuradhapura in north-central Sri Lanka.

The Twin Pools at Anuradhapura

The massive reservoirs you saw last time allowed for more in antiquity than just growing rice. In this instance, two large granite pools were created and supplied with water from a rainwater-fed reservoir three kilometres away via an underground pipe (most water transfers in these systems were by open on-ground channels, but this one was different). It is believed the smaller, northern pool was constructed in the 8th century AD, and the larger one in the 10th.

The purpose of the pools? Well, there were, at the time, 5000 monks living here at Abhayagiri Monastery, in an area of about 500 acres. 5000 monks needed to stay cool, and needed to bathe, just like the rest of us. There were about twenty pools in the area, but only two were positioned right next to each other, and these were also the most elaborate and beautiful.

The water from the pools was recycled – feeding rice paddies nearby, which in turn fed the monks.

On the waterline on the far side, just to the right of dead centre of the image,
you can make out an exit drain. This one drain bled the water from both pools
– and into neighbouring rice paddies.

And, before it got this far, water entering the pools went through a clever filtration system that ensured the monks weren’t wading in impurities.

A three kilometre pipe emptied into the filter shown here in the foreground, via the
hole you can see at far right. Water needed to reach a certain height (about 12 inches)
before it could progress to the next chamber, leaving heavier-than-water items behind
where they could be periodically scooped out. Even the centre chamber – the final
one before entering the pool, had a raised exit pipe, as you can see.

A five-hooded cobra, considered a guardian of water, protects the inward
flow at the northern end of the northern pool (next to the filter).

So, many centuries ago we had harvested rain water – transferred via very accurate on-contour piping and made out of eco-friendly materials – being used to service man’s recreational and hygiene needs, before being emptied out into ‘the garden’.

There really is nothing new under the sun.

Novice Buddhist monks listen to their instructor
Photos Copyright © Craig Mackintosh

Last time I spoke about the world’s largest earthworks project – an incredible and unrivalled example of large scale water harvesting. Today we continue the tale, highlighting the beautiful and practical Kuttam Pokuna, or Twin Pools, found at Anuradhapura in north-central Sri Lanka.

The Twin Pools at Anuradhapura

The massive reservoirs you saw last time allowed for more in antiquity than just growing rice. In this instance, two large granite pools were created and supplied with water from a rainwater-fed reservoir three kilometres away via an underground pipe (most water transfers in these systems were by open on-ground channels, but this one was different). It is believed the smaller, northern pool was constructed in the 8th century AD, and the larger one in the 10th.

The purpose of the pools? Well, there were, at the time, 5000 monks living here at Abhayagiri Monastery, in an area of about 500 acres. 5000 monks needed to stay cool, and needed to bathe, just like the rest of us. There were about twenty pools in the area, but only two were positioned right next to each other, and these were also the most elaborate and beautiful.

The water from the pools was recycled – feeding rice paddies nearby, which in turn fed the monks.

On the waterline on the far side, just to the right of dead centre of the image,
you can make out an exit drain. This one drain bled the water from both pools
– and into neighbouring rice paddies.

And, before it got this far, water entering the pools went through a clever filtration system that ensured the monks weren’t wading in impurities.

A three kilometre pipe emptied into the filter shown here in the foreground, via the
hole you can see at far right. Water needed to reach a certain height (about 12 inches)
before it could progress to the next chamber, leaving heavier-than-water items behind
where they could be periodically scooped out. Even the centre chamber – the final
one before entering the pool, had a raised exit pipe, as you can see.

A five-hooded cobra, considered a guardian of water, protects the inward
flow at the northern end of the northern pool (next to the filter).

So, many centuries ago, we had harvested rain water being transferred very accurately, via pipes made of eco-friendly materials, and used to service man’s recreational and hygiene needs – before emptying out into ‘the garden’.

There really is nothing new under the sun.

Okay, the elephant has nothing to do with the story below (except that it’s also large in scale), but it is an appropriate way to let you all know of my whereabouts, and to explain my lack of posting of late (and it’s a great way to get your attention…). I’m currently in Sri Lanka – working on the Sustainable (R)evolution book project we told you about a little while back. I leave the country in a few days, heading to Ladakh, but over the next weeks, as I have time, expect several posts on different elements of this country that should interest you.

First up – I’ll post on an earthworks site I visited today….

Permaculture earthworks projects for supplying water and rehydrating the landscape are, generally, supposed to be small scale by nature. And, also in the spirit of Permaculture, they’re (ideally) done with voluntary, community/collective labour where possible.

What I’m going to describe below fits into neither category.

Let not even a drop of rain water go to the sea without benefiting man – Parakrama Bahu the Great, King of Sri Lanka, 1153–1186 AD

The quote above – a highly valid argument for Permaculture engineers by the way – sets the scene for this story. King Parakrama Bahu is credited with being the greatest water harvesting earthworks engineer of all time. Is it believed that during the 12th century he constructed or restored: 165 dam walls, 3910 canals, 163 major and 2376 minor reservoirs (or ‘tanks’, as they’re known here) and 328 stone sluices. He also repaired 1,969 embankment breaches. This is all no mean feat considering his reign only lasted 33 years – and considering the size of the dam walls themselves.

An ancient dam wall/embankment at Anuradhapura forms a reservoir behind it.
This is a medium sized dam, with a catchment area of 32.5 square miles (84 square kms)

Of course, he didn’t do this single-handedly…. History books indicate that forced labour was his earthmoving equipment of choice. Putting the ethics of this behind us though, these earthworks transformed the country into the granary of the Orient – enabling the early Sengalese to grow rice (and other crops) across the large flatlands of the island state.

I say early Sengalese, because our ambitious king, although the most famous hydrologist, was actually only one of a long line of Sri Lankan dam and canal builders – the earliest of who dates back as far as the fourth century BC.

Originally devoid of natural lakes, century upon century of work in Sri Lanka has seen hundreds of large and thousands of smaller dams pepper the landscape. The work was meticulous in its detail. For example – the thousands of miles of canals were designed so precisely as to descend at a steady rate of less than 20 centimeters per kilometer (or less than a foot per mile), with individual canals reaching up to 80 kilometers (or 50 miles) in length. And some of the reservoirs, like the one I’ve photographed for this post, also had an overflow spillway as a feature, ensuring that if a particularly strong wet season did its worst, the water would outflow passively without breaching the restraining wall.

I’m told that originally all the dams were filled through rainwater harvesting only, although over the course of time stream and river diversions played a considerable role in feeding the system as well.

A sluice at the Anuradhapura reservoir

As fascinating as all this is, it gets even more so since much of the ancient system is still in use right now – helping make today’s Sri Lanka the largely food-self-sufficient country it is, on land that would otherwise be predominantly bone dry. The sluice above and below is ancient in placement, but modern in its restoration – with concrete walls and an iron sluice gate.

The shot below progresses this photo series to show the other side of the dam wall – where the open sluice allows water to flow into the adjacent region.

Water exits the reservoir, or ‘tank’, via a sluice through the dam wall (right)
and begins its life-giving journey across the countryside (left)

From here the canal winds through the countryside, with the man-made tributaries branching off into smaller and smaller lines along the way, some of which are controlled by minor sluice gates, with the precious cargo finally reaching rice farmers across the area.

While today’s legislation demands that water diverted to your property only be used for rice paddies, in real terms the water ultimately gets used for a lot more. Let me explain: today’s canals are fully concrete lined, but only initially. As the water enters smaller offshoots, they become concrete sided only (i.e. no seal on the bottom). This means water seeps into the ground to lift the water table – recharging the many thousands of wells across the countryside.

An end-of-the-line category channel, showing an officially controlled, slightly ajar
mini-sluice at right. This will divert waterflow into an individual
farmer’s paddy field – when it’s his turn at least….

Given the extreme nature of water flows in this region – monsoon rains in the wet season, followed by extended dry periods – this massive water harvesting network was a highly appropriate investment for Sri Lanka. And, as it turned out, a very long term one at that! The many thousands of streams flowing out of these vast reservoirs not only supply a large population with their staple, but also allow countless trees of every kind imaginable to get to work in shading and feeding people, slowing evaporation, and providing habitat for Sri Lanka’s rich biodiversity.

Rice harvested as egret supervises

Not all was perfect with the ancient system though. The large scale, centralised nature of the system did backfire at one point – when a major but natural change in the course of the Mahaweli Ganga river in the thirteenth century completely undermined a large part of the network.

The fall of the ancient hydraulic civilisation of Sri Lanka in the 13th century was due to sudden Natural Cataclysmic change of the river course of the Mahaveli Ganga and was not due to foreign invasions as historians would want us to believe. The scientific evidence is clearly seen in the aerial photographs of the old course of the Mahaveli Ganga and its new river course…. This sudden geological catyclysm that changed the river course that sustained our ancient hydraulic civilization, led to disease and famine. This resulted in the major part of the population to abandon these areas and move to the Wet and Intermediate Zones…. – A. Denis N. Fernando,
Fellow National Academy of Sciences

The moral of the story? Keep it small, keep it ethical, but do make sure not a drop reaches the ocean without benefiting the land, and the men and creatures on it.

Follow up with:

• Letters from Sri Lanka – Greywater Recycling at Kuttam Pokuna (the Twin Pools)

Urban drool running down concreted channel Tujunga Wash, Los Angeles, California. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

All around the world I see water wastefully flowing down and out of urban street curbs and concreted storm drains even though it has not rained in months. It is not stormwater I see flowing. It is urban drool. Others call it “nuisance runoff” – water from leaky pipes, driveway car washes, overwatered landscapes, and so on – our waste.  But it can be a resource. It can be harvested.

That is what is happening in Los Angeles, California long a mile long stretch of the Tujunga Wash Flood Control Channel, between Vanowen Street and Oxnard Avenue. It is bringing myriad life back to this community.

Section of Tujunga Wash and fenced-off upper bank pre-rehabilitation. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

Between 1950 and 1952 the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers cleared a 9-mile section of the waterway of its vegetation and lined it with concrete to drain the water out of the community as quickly as possible. The goal was flood control, but it also dehydrated the watershed and its aquifer, removed the natural water filter, and created a fenced-off sterile blight.

That is now beginning to be reversed with the Tujunga Wash Greenway and Stream Restoration Project. A stream has been recreated and replanted with native riparian vegetation on the upper banks of the concreted channel. The new stream is fed by water diverted upstream from the channel through a half-mile-long pipe. Much of this water is urban drool, which flows year round. As the water flows through the greenway, it is filtered and cleaned by sand, gravel, and tree roots. Some percolates into the ground (helping recharge the aquifer), the rest is returned to the flood control channel via another pipe. It teems with life and invites one to step off the wide pedestrian/bicycle path lining the stream to explore and play.

Section of Tujunga Wash and new pedestrian path/corridor post rehabilitation. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

Much of this life acts a living seed bank of indigenous plants, whose seed can help revegetate downstream areas as water and seed flows downstream, and upstream areas as wildlife walks and flies upstream with seed in tow.

As this life resides on the upper banks it is unlikely to be washed out in big floods. The floods will scour down the concreted channel, leaving the life in its protective upper bank eddy to replant what is scoured – and to germinate still more life not yet seen.

It is a small step. A beginning. An invitation to revalue and rehabilitate our waterways so they once again are regenerative corridors of water, pedestrians, and wildlife.

Playing in section of Tujunga Wash rehabilitated upper bank stream. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

For more on this dynamic project see here and here (PDF).

For more ideas, strategies, and stories on how to harvest urban drool and rainwater runoff to generate more life higher in the watershed of our built environments see:

• Street Orchards for Community Security
• Parking Lot to Parking Orchard
• Farming in the City with Runoff from a Street
• Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volume 2: Water-Harvesting Earthworks

And thank you to David O’Donnell of TreePeople for guiding me to this project and its resources.

In comparison to the cost in life and property that these fires bring, such systems would be extremely cost-effective, and if done thoughtfully could also be used to bring other benefits – beyond fire protection – to local populations, wildlife and the environment. These concepts should be urged upon your local political representative for their consideration, and not just in Australia. Climate change is causing many normally wet regions to begin to dry out and already dry areas to dry out even more – so we can expect the frequency and intensity of fires to escalate in coming years.

You can listen to the clip in its entirety here (17 min, 15.4mb MP3). To download the file, simply right-click on the link and choose ‘Save Link As’ (Firefox) or ‘Save Target As’ (Internet Explorer).

Fig. 24.The heat island effect. An excessively wide, exposed, solar-oven-like residential street in Tucson, Arizona absorbs the sun’s heat during the day like a battery, then radiates it out at night. This local warming effect has raised summer temperatures in Tucson by 6°F (3°C) since the 1940s, which contributes to global warming since the higher temperatures result in people using air conditioners more, which are powered by electricity generated through the burning of coal. Note that no shade trees are planted in the public right-of-way along the street, leaving street and sidewalk baked. All runoff is drained off site leaving the development dehydrated. Reproduced with permission from “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volume 1"

My view of public streets was radically changed when I heard ecovillage designer Max Lindigger tell a story of an insightful walk he took with his grandfather. “Look there,” said his grandfather, pointing to condominiums being built on the once forested slopes above his village in the Swiss Alps. “That’s where we grew and gathered food during the war. The forests were common land, a reserve of community resources. What commons remain? Where will we grow and gather our food in the next catastrophe?”

I then looked at my Sonoran desert city of Tucson, Arizona and asked myself, “Where are my community’s forests, our commons? Where would we get our food in times of need?”

Over 450 native food plants grow wild in the intact areas of the Sonoran Desert.1 The velvet mesquite tree is one of the keystone species producing a reliable crop of diabetes-deterring, naturally sweet, protein and carbohydrate—rich seeds and seedpods in both wet years and drought.2 Thus it used to be a staple of the indigenous people’s diets. Yet the vast majority of these trees and the greater ecosystem have been bulldozed within my city to be replaced with a hot and inhospitable pavement of impermeable streets, parking lots and buildings or landscapes of water-hungry exotic plants dependent upon irrigation from dwindling water supplies. The pavement drains much of our scant 12 inches (304 mm) of average annual rainfall out of the community through runoff and evaporation. Yet, this pavement is also the excessively long corridor through which most of our food arrives. According to the WorldWatch Institute, the average American meal travels 1,500 to 2,500 miles (2,414 to 4,023 km) from the farm to the table.3 If oil supplies fueling semi-trailers disappeared we’d be without food. If the power that fuels our well pumps went out, we’d be out of water. We are creating the conditions for catastrophe.

But that can change by turning “wastes” into resources, and turning challenges into opportunity. The majority of public land—our commons—in the urban setting is our public streets and adjoining right-of-ways. All too often there is little or no vegetation there, let alone a forest. But the resources (soil, local nursery and backyard grown native plants, rainwater runoff, and people) to grow a forest, or at least regionally appropriate orchards, are there (fig. 24 and 25).

Fig. 25. The cool island effect. A narrow, mature tree-lined, and shaded street in Village Homes, Davis, California. This local cooling effect from shading has resulted in summer temperatures dropping 10°F (5.5°C), which reduces global warming since lower temperatures result in people using air conditioners less, which are powered by electricity generated through the burning of coal. Note that runoff from the street is directed to the trees that shade the street; beneficially hydrating the site, while also reducing downstream flooding. The trees are deciduous, so they drop their leaves and let more sun in during winter. Reproduced with permission from “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volume 1"

Once established, native food plants can survive on our natural rainfall patterns without irrigation. With harvested rainfall these plants can thrive. The vast majority of Tucson’s stormwater runoff is currently diverted straight from roofs, driveways, patios, parking lots, and convex landscapes to public streets that flood to resemble rivers; the runoff then exits via storm drains (fig. 26). If we recognize that runoff as an asset rather than a liability, we can harvest it before it runs down the drain to sustainably grow native food forests on public rights-of-way along the neighborhood streets that act like ephemerally flowing riverbeds, and within public parks and on private property (fig. 27). This also greatly reduces potential flooding of downstream areas, while improving stormwater quality.

Fig. 26. A landscape wastefully draining resources away. Reproduced with permission from “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volume 1"

Fig. 27. A landscape abundantly harvesting resources. Reproduced with permission from “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volume 1"

That’s a big part of the idea behind a collaborative effort in my hometown called Desert Harvesters, which strives to promote, celebrate, and enhance local food production and security by planting indigenous, food-bearing shade trees in water-harvesting earthworks, and then showing folks how to harvest and process the bounty. Annual events include neighborhood tree plantings, milling events that grind mesquite seedpods harvested from neighborhood trees into delicious flour, and native/local food feasts.

Planting community roots

We encourage neighborhood activists to organize tree plantings in their communities, emphasizing hardy, food-producing shade trees native to the Tucson Basin. We provide a list of the recommended trees, their description, and some of their uses on our website. These trees are the best for the area, since they have adapted over millennia to our local climate and soils, and coevolved with the native wildlife.

Neighbors can purchase these trees in 5-gallon sizes for just $8 each thanks to generous subsidies from Tucson Electric Power Company and the local program Trees for Tucson. A community tree-planting day is set for each neighborhood to distribute their trees, and it’s kicked off with a free workshop on how to plant them in water harvesting earthworks. Volunteer crews of neighborhood residents then set out to plant trees along their streets, sidewalks, and in private yards. Within hours of planting the neighborhood feels changed for the better-more neighbors know each other. The trees show the care and commitment people have for their community, and water-harvesting earthworks can be observed by all (fig. 28). Within six years of planting the trees are full and beautiful, regularly blooming with seasonal color. Neighborhoods find that as native habitat grows back within the urban core, exotic pigeon populations start to be replaced by native bird life such as cardinals, flycatchers, cactus wrens, hummingbirds, curve-billed thrashers, white-winged doves, gamble’s quail, and gila woodpeckers. The community’s Sense of Place becomes reconnected to the flora and fauna of the local ecosystem, which is becoming reestablished, right outside their homes. Within eight to ten years of planting, the tree-shaded sections of the neighborhood are noticeably cooler than unplanted areas (compare figs. 29 and 30). This confirms what studies have shown – shade trees growing along streets can cool the summer temperatures of urban neighborhoods by 10°F (5.5°C) if the canopy shades enough of the hardscape.4 This can greatly reduce a community’s power consumption since less power is then needed to mechanically cool buildings. Plant a tree and you plant a living air conditioner.

Fig. 28. Happy tree planters and newly planted desert ironwood tree. Neighbors help each other plant trees, and thereby get to know one another and create a more dynamic, close-knit community. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

Fig. 30. Same section of Dunbar/Spring right-of-way as fig. 29 after water-harvesting earthworks and tree planting, 2006. Used with permission from “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond”

Additional indigenous food trees in the Tucson area include foothills palo verde (Cercidium microphyllum) and blue palo verde (Cercidium floridum) producing delicious flowers and barley flavored seeds, and desert ironwood (Olneya tesota) producing peanut-flavored seeds. Many native plants also have medicinal value and provide craft materials such as dyes, wood, glues, fiber, and more. Native food trees in other regions might include oak, pinyon pine, sugar maple, or date palm.

The harvest

Harvesting advice is given on our website, and harvesting workshops are given in areas of the community where the trees have been planted. The harvest extends well beyond the picking of fruit and seed. We also try to get folks to realize the value of harvesting the local resources that will support and enhance the trees – such as rainwater runoff and mulch. The implementation of rainwater-harvesting cisterns is encouraged to augment water-harvesting earthworks with captured roof runoff, and enhanced water-harvesting earthworks are utilized along streets to use street runoff to passively irrigate the trees planted along the streets. This simultaneously enhances local water resources while creating a beautiful, multi-purpose greenfrastucture of flood-controlling landscapes. For more information on these strategies please see my books “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond, Volumes 1 and 2” at www.HarvestingRainwater.com.

In addition to harvesting runoff, the basin-like earthworks passively harvest mulch in the form of leaf and fruit drop. The mulch increases the rate at which rainfall is absorbed into the soil, minimizes water loss to evaporation, and naturally fertilizes the soil. Rather than strip mining nutrients from the trees and soil by raking away fallen leaves and fruit drop (fig. 31), we encourage folks to let this organic matter collect within the basins around the trees to naturally decompose and cycle back into the vegetation and soil (fig. 32). Prunings are cut up into 4-inch (10-cm) long sections and laid beneath the trees from which they were cut. Harvest your leaf drop and prunings, and the nutrient loop becomes regenerative. Trees grow taller and stronger.

Fig. 31. Wastefully using fossil fuels to vacuum up leaf drop and nutrients. Photo credit: Jenny Leis

Fig. 32. Beneficially using prunings as mulch to recycle nutrients back into the soil and tree, while increase water infiltration into the soil, and reducing soil moisture loss to evaporation. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

Milling and enjoying mesquite

We live in a society that is often short on time and in search of convenience. Traditional means of grinding mesquite pods and processing other wild foods often demand more time than busy folks are willing to give up. So we sought to speed up the process and make it fun. Thanks to a $4,900 PRO Neighborhoods grant we were able to purchase a farm-scale hammermill and mount it to a trailer to make it mobile. We take the mill to various public milling events around the community to which folks can conveniently bring their harvested mesquite pods (fig. 33). The hammermill can grind 5 gallons of whole mesquite pods into 1 gallon of finely textured, naturally sweet flour in just 5 minutes. Traditionally this would’ve taken hours (fig. 34).

Fig. 33. By taking our mill to various locations it is very easy for folks to get to the events by our favorite non-polluting, community-building, good health modes of transport – foot, rollerblade, skateboard, and bicycle. Photo credit: Brad Lancaster

Fig. 34. Primitive mesquite milling demonstration at the Dunbar/Spring Organic Community Garden mesquite milling and mesquite pancake breakfast.

The milling events are typically held in conjunction with local farmers’ markets or mesquite pancake feasts to enhance the diversity of available foods and to expose folks to the wonderful flavors and potential abundance of locally grown foods. The events are organized in October and November at community gardens, the community food bank, and community centers to correspond with the late summer garden harvest and the end of the mesquite pod harvest. Mesquite pancakes served with prickly pear and saguaro syrups or backyard honey “plant the seeds” of the native foods’ delicious tastes and potential within the minds and palates of the hungry public (fig. 35). (Click here for a video of one of the community fiestas). Sale of, and feasting on, local garden produce like corn, squash, tomatoes, and tepary beans, and cultural foods like tamales, sweet potato pie, and pickled cholla buds are encouraged. Local musicians play as folks eat and the hammermill is fired up to grind the mesquite pods brought by community members who harvested over the summer. Flour goes home with the harvesters, and mesquite breads, cookies, and sauces are cooked up in their kitchens.

Fig. 35. Hunger for the delicious mesquite pancake. Photo credit: Josh Schachter

By planting, harvesting, and sharing the produce of the native ecosystem and backyard gardens these foods become sustainable parts of our daily experience, community/cultural identity, and food security. Many of these plants, particularly the natives, do not need imported resources to grow. By incorporating such strategies as water harvesting, passive mulching, and strategic planting (such as along streets or on the east and west sides of buildings) local resources are enhanced, wildlife can prosper, neighborhoods are beautified, and communities are made more liveable. By sharing and celebrating community efforts and resources knowledge is spread, the value and appreciation of local resources grows, and community ties and investment build. All of this is an integrated means of designing to thwart catastrophe, while enhancing our lives now. And the benefits steadily grow both with the trees, the relationships we have initiated with our neighbors, and a deeper connection to place and the resources that sustain it.

Brad Lancaster is a permaculture teacher, designer, consultant, and activist living in Tucson, Arizona. He is a co-founder of Desert Harvesters (www.DesertHarvesters.org). In addition, he is the author of the award-winning books “Rainwater Harvesting for Drylands and Beyond” Volumes 1 and 2 (www.HarvestingRainwater.com).

The potential of harvested street runoff 5

For every inch of rainfall

• A 10-foot wide paved street will drain 27,800 gallons of runoff per mile
• A 20-foot wide paved street will drain 55,700 gallons of runoff per mile
• A 30-foot wide paved street will drain 83,500 gallons of runoff per mile

For every 100 mm of rainfall

• A 3-m wide paved street will drain 300,000 liters of runoff per mile
• A 6-m wide paved street will drain 600,000 liters of runoff per mile
• A 9-m wide paved street will drain 900,000 liters of runoff per mile

References:

1. Hodgson, Wendy, Food Plants of the Sonoran Desert, University of Arizona Press, 2001.
2. Niethammer, Carolyn J., The Tumbleweed Gourmet – Cooking with Wild Southwestern Plants, University of Arizona Press, 1987.
3. Halweil, Brian, Home Grown – The Case For Local Food in a Global Market, WorldWatch Paper 163, WorldWatch Institute, 2002.
4. Hammond, Johnathan, Marshall Hunt, Richard Cramer, and Lauren Neubauer, A Strategy for Energy Conservation – Proposed Energy Conservation and Solar Utilization Ordinance for the City of Davis, California, City of Davis, CA Energy Conservation Ordinance Project, 1974.