Watching the clouds, no matter where you farm

Sitting in the grain truck waiting for my brother to offload the next combine tank of winter wheat, I looked up at the cotton ball cumulus clouds that dotted the Lonesome Prairie sky. I think of them as “summer clouds,” reminiscing back to being a little girl and enjoying the quietness of a simple summer day, kept company by my dolls and stuffed animals under the Russian olive trees planted by my grandparents.

In the warm, no-breeze truck, I realized if I took a cat nap and woke to see them, I could groggily believe I was elsewhere…like on the beach. I could wake up thinking I had taken a nap on the beach in Guam, “Where America’s Day Begins.” I was fortunate to receive an educational grant to attend a conference there last fall. Included in the conference were farm tours, which opened my eyes to an entirely different way of farming from the dryland wheat farming I was familiar with. It also helped me develop a better understanding that no matter what a farmer plants or where they live, we all watch the clouds.

We toured both a large-scale farm (a large farm in Guam is 20 acres), as well as a farm-to-table operation, which was about five acres. I was surprised to learn about the challenges Guam farmers face. At the farm-to-table operation, the farmer/owner/tour guide shared that it was the depressing time of the year for them…because there was too much rain. I learned that Guam farmers will plant their fruits and vegetables and have a nice start to a crop, but then too much rain comes and washes the seeds and young plants away. It was such a foreign concept – too much rain. I hadn’t thought about it before, but Guam farmers also have to deal with a lot of wind. I recall many times over the years my dad complaining (swearing) about the wind. Guam farmers attempt to block wind by growing large soursop trees that have heavy, broad leaves which act as windbreaks. Guam farmers grow an amazing wide variety of vegetables and fruits. Their papayas are the largest I’ve ever seen! Before starting the tour, I heard someone mention a chicken tractor. I got to see one in operation! However, because of the challenging terrain and climate and since almost all of the farm work is done by hand, Guam must import almost all of its food, including produce.

It dawned on me during the tours, and I’ve reflected on it often since, that I had an idyllic but naïve vision of what’s involved with farming on a tropical island. I thought, “How cool would it be, right?” Have a steady supply of your own food, bask in temperatures that range from the mid-70s to the mid-80s, enjoy the beauty of living among lush vegetation, and inhale the intoxicating scent of island flowers. It seems a bit silly now, but maybe it’s not that different than how some people think what it’s like living in Montana, thanks to “Yellowstone.” Because of that TV series, some people may think we Montanans all walk around a bit grumpy, but we also wear crow’s feet just as good as Kevin Costner does.

Lightheartedness aside, I also learned Guam has a tragic similarity with mainland farmers. They too suffer disproportionate rates of suicide. Guam is small, about 12 miles wide and about 30 miles long. Just as in rural mainland America, one suicide has a profound impact on an entire community. We share several risk factors – isolation, lack of services, reluctance to use existing services, weather challenges, market challenges, etc. This too helped open my eyes and gave me a better understanding of a stunningly beautiful, yet complex, and sometimes tragic, way of farming.

Those puffy marshmallow clouds I mentioned earlier began to build into large, looming mushrooms that took on an eerie, hulking appearance. Changing colors from vanilla cream to dark grey in a short amount of time meant something was coming, and it wasn’t good. Soon after, due to lightning strikes, at least three fires erupted within just a few miles of one another. Usually, wheat farmers look forward to seeing the clouds build, turn dark, and bring life-giving rain, but not during harvest. I suppose right now the wheat farmers feel much like Guam farmers. Too much rain can contribute to stress, anxiety and depression. I was also surprised to learn Guam battles red flag warnings and they too have to guard against fire. So, undoubtedly there are days when Guam farmers feel like dryland wheat farmers. Not enough rain can also contribute to stress, anxiety and depression.

No matter where we live, or what we farm, we are much more similar than we are different. We tend to the soil. We nurture the seedlings. We take pride in clean fields. We feel the profound sense of accomplishment when we feed our families and feed the world. We are all in this together.

We are all watching the clouds.

For more information on the Ask In Earnest initiative, go to www.askinearnest.org. Darla Tyler-McSherry, Founder and Visionary of Ask In Earnest, can be reached at askinearnest@hotmail.com.