permaculture

[Lawrence London <lfljvenaura@gmail.com>]

Pasture Cropping: A Regenerative Solution from Down Under | Solutions
http://www.thesolutionsjournal.com/node/1261

Pasture Cropping: A Regenerative Solution from Down Under
  By Courtney White <http://www.thesolutionsjournal.com/user/116451>

Courtesy of Winona Farms
Through innovative farming methods, Colin Seis of New South Wales,
Australia is able to raise cereal crops and sheep on the same land—a
two-for-one deal.

Since the late 1990s, Australian farmer Colin Seis has been successfully
planting a cereal crop into perennial pasture on his sheep farm during the
dormant period using no-till drilling, a method that uses a drill to sow
seeds instead of the traditional plow. He calls it *pasture cropping* and
he gains two crops this way from one parcel of land—a cereal crop for food
or forage and wool or lamb meat from his pastures—which means its potential
for feeding the world in a sustainable manner is significant.

As Seis tells the story, the idea for pasture cropping came to him and a
friend from the bottom of a beer bottle. Ten of them, in fact.

It was 1993. Seis, a sheep farmer in western New South Wales, and his
friend Daryl Cluff, also a farmer, were drinking beer one night,
contemplating paradigms. Why, they asked, were crops and pastures farmed
separately? Their answer: tradition. They had been taught that pasture and
crop systems operated by different ecological processes and were thus
incompatible. Crops needed tilling and pastures needed animals. The systems
could be alternated over the years, but never integrated. Right? Or wrong?
They decided to have more beer.

Seis raised the question because he had been watching the native grasses on
his farm and began to wonder if nature didn’t intend for annuals and
perennials to coexist. Nature certainly wanted *weeds* in his pasture—so
why not a different type of annual instead, such as oats? He knew why:
weeds liked to run a 100-yard dash while perennial grasses like to a run a
marathon. Two different races, two different types of athletes. Right? Or
wrong? They needed another round of beer.

What if it were just one race? What if grasses acted as a kind of cover
crop for the annuals, keeping down the weeds but allowing the
middle-distance runners, such as oats or barley or canola, to grow while
the perennials waited for their turn on the racetrack? More to the point:
what if you no-till drilled the perennial pasture during its dormant period
with a cereal crop? What would happen?

That was crazy talk, had to be.

The more they drank that night, however, the more the idea intrigued them.
Why couldn’t a cereal plant be cropped in a perennial pasture? As farmers,
couldn’t they figure out a way to make them all get along symbiotically? If
nature could do it, why couldn’t they? That’s when the light went on, Seis
said.

“You had to be drunk to think of something like pasture cropping,” Seis
told me. “But once we sobered up the next day, we decided to give it a go.”

And give it a go they did.

So have many others. Today, over 2,000 farms practice pasture cropping
across Australia, and many more overseas. The idea continues to spread as
well. Here are some reasons why:

   - high crop yields
   - sustained high pasture and animal production from cropped land
   - increased fodder for livestock
   - high rates of carbon bio-sequestration
   - marked improvement in the water-holding capacity of the soils
   - improved nutrient cycling
   - improvements in biodiversity and resilience, even under drought stress
   - significantly reduced input costs and risks
   - improved economic return from the vertical stacking of enterprises
   - improved happiness quotient on the farm

It is this last point that is perhaps most important, Seis says. As a
practice, pasture cropping is pretty straightforward: by growing an annual
plant in the competitive niches in the root ecology of a perennial pasture,
it avoids the need to kill pasture grasses prior to sowing a crop, thereby
maintaining a living plant cover, which improves biological health of the
soil and protects from wind and rain erosion.

Plus, a farmer gets two products—crops and animals—from one piece of land.
Three, actually, if you harvest the grass seeds as a potential food source,
as Seis has done, mimicking the Aboriginals who lived in the area
historically.

But it is the social and emotional value of farming regeneratively, as Seis
calls it, that matters most to him. To tell the story properly, we need to
back up in time.

Courtney White
Seis and his son manage about 4,000 sheep on Winona Farms, which has been
in the family for generations.
 A New Farm

When Seis gives a lecture or conducts a workshop, he invariably starts with
the story of what went wrong with Australian agriculture. It’s his way of
putting pasture cropping in context, as well as explaining why he calls it *
regenerative* agriculture—because so much of what happened on the
continent’s farms and pasturelands historically was *unregenerative*. (By
the way, they don’t call anything a *ranch* Down Under. Everything is a
farm, unless it’s a huge spread Outback, which is then called a *station*.)

The destruction of Australia’s grasslands began 150 years ago, says Seis,
with inappropriate grazing management and, later, plowing, mostly to grow
wheat for the nation’s burgeoning population. Overgrazing, tilling, and the
introduction of exotic animals in colonial times, including foxes, rabbits,
toads, and a variety of aggressive plant species, all combined to devastate
the continent’s naturally nutrient-poor soils and largely defenseless
indigenous wildlife. Topsoil began to wash away, along with its precious
carbon and other organic matter, causing a general decline in overall soil
health and crop productivity. Everything sped up with the introduction of
the mechanized tractor in the 1920s, and not in a good way. This was
followed by widespread application of herbicides, pesticides, and chemical
fertilizer in a desperate attempt to salvage what remained of the soil’s
fertility.

Seis knows this story first hand—he saw it happen on his family’s
2,000-acre farm, called Winona, located 180 miles northwest of Sydney.

Seis’ grandfather resisted the industrial changes being pushed on
Australian wheat farmers by agricultural companies and government agencies.
He was doing fine, Seis said. His son, Harry, however, decided to try
something called New Manure, which turned out to be an early version of
superphosphate, in an attempt to boost declining yields. His father
objected, asking, “What’s wrong with the *old* manure?” Trouble slowly
escalated after Seis’ father bought a tractor. He didn’t know it, but his
increased plowing was depleting the soil, reducing carbon especially. A
vicious cycle ensued: less fertility in the soil meant more chemical inputs
were needed to compensate, round and round. Then the farm began to fail.
Costs kept rising, fertility kept falling, salinity rose, trees began to
die—and they were going broke.

“Still, the ‘moron principle’ prevailed in my family,” said Seis, his voice
rising slightly, “you know, more fertilizer on and more on.”

The farm ended up becoming dysfunctional and unprofitable. The granite soil
on Winona had become compacted and acidic, and organic carbon levels had
dropped to below 1.5 percent. The topsoil had declined to less that 100
millimeters deep and the subsoil had become sodic. Areas of salinity were
also breaking out around the property as well.

Then, in 1979, a wildfire burned almost all of Winona. Three thousand sheep
died, all of the buildings were destroyed, 20 miles of fencing burned up,
trees exploded, grass died, and Seis ended up in the hospital with burns on
his body.

“Worst of all, there was no money to recover things with, which means we
had hit rock bottom,” Seis explained. “My grandfather had the last laugh,
I’m afraid.”

When Seis had recovered from his burns, he decided to rethink the way he
had been practicing agriculture. It wasn’t a criticism of Seis’ father, who
had followed the rules of farming for the time, but rather a realization
that the rules themselves needed to change. The fire suddenly created an
opportunity to do just that. Out of the ashes, Seis vowed, a new farm would
emerge.

The first step was to physically rebuild the farm, which took two years and
lots of help from neighbors. The second step was to go cold turkey on
fertilizer, herbicides, and pesticides, because they couldn’t afford them.
The pastures collapsed as a consequence. “They were addicted to
phosphorus,” Seis said. The third step was to research native grasses.
Could they come back? Would they be an acceptable alternative? His father
had battled against native grasses all his life, Seis told me, and they
kept returning despite his efforts at eradication. This raised a question
in Seis’ mind: if they keep wanting to come back, why not let them?
Apparently, they want to be on the farm.

Courtesy of Winona Farms
Clearly visible in this picture are the harvestable oat crops—for sale as
food or forage—growing above the grasses later grazed by sheep.

This led to the fourth step: study the holistic management ideas of Allan
Savory, who had developed a way of managing animals on pasture that mimics
the graze-and-go behavior of wild herbivores. Seis resisted initially, but
again felt that he had no choice. He quickly learned that it worked,
especially when he sicced his sheep on the non-natives (with his father’s
reluctant blessing). This new approach created a long transitional period
of low productivity, which reinforced his neighbors’ belief that native
grasses were not as productive as introduced ones. But Seis persisted with
his plan.

“I’m stubborn like my dad and his dad,” Seis said. “I wasn’t sure if that
was a good thing or not for a while, but in the end it paid off.”

By 1990 things had improved substantially, and Seis was seeing benefits
both on the land and in his bank account. But Seis knew it wasn’t enough to
completely repair all the damage that Winona has endured over the years. He
needed a new idea.

That’s where the beer came in.

“Before industrialized agriculture was developed, the world’s grasslands
and farms contained hundreds of plant species of all sorts,” Seis said.
“And they functioned with very few problems like disease, insect attack, or
weeds because it was a balanced ecosystem. Pasture cropping returns that
balance. It also creates good, rich soil with high carbon levels and good
water-holding capacity.”

Today, thanks to holistic management, pasture cropping, and other
regenerative practices, Seis can catalog Winona’s recovery in detail:

   - conversion to native grassland with over 50 species of grass, forbs,
   and herbs
   - savings around $60,000 annually in decreased inputs
   - increased profits from improved sheep-carrying capacity, wool quality,
   and wool quantity
   - crop yields from pasture cropping comparable to yields from
   conventional cropping with 20-year oat yields averaging 2.5 tons per
   hectare
   - no insect attacks or fungal diseases in crops or pasture
   - increases in bird and native animal numbers and species diversity
   - big improvement in soil health, soil structure, and water-holding
   capacity
   - significantly higher counts of fungi and bacteria in soil, evident in
   microbial counts
   - average of 150 percent increase in all soil nutrients
   - 203 percent increase in soil organic carbon

Today, Seis and his son Nicholas run around four thousand Merino sheep on
Winona and pasture crop around 200 hectares (500 acres) annually in oats,
wheat, and cereal rye.

Winona has left rock bottom far behind. So have Seis and his family.
How It Works

The key to how pasture cropping works is the relationship between cool
season (C3) plants and warm season (C4) plants—the difference being the
number of carbon molecules and how they affect the process by which glucose
is produced in a plant. C3 plants, such as wheat, rice, oats, and barley,
grow early in the season and then become less active or go dormant as
temperatures rise and light intensity increases. In contrast, C4 plants,
such as corn, sorghum, sugarcane, and millet, remain dormant until
temperatures become warm enough to switch on and begin growing.

Pasture cropping utilizes the niche created by C3 and C4 plants. When a C4
is dormant (during winter), a C3 plant seed is sown by no-till drilling
into the C4 pasture. With the onset of spring, the C3 plants begin to grow.
If managed properly, plus the right amount of rain, the C3 crop can be
harvested before the C4 plants begin the vigorous part of their growth
cycle. The removal of the C3 crop will then stimulate C4 plant growth (due
to reduced competition). The mix of shallow- and deep-rooted plants also
access water resources in the soil differently, which can reduce
competition and increase overall productivity.

Central to understanding the process is understanding what’s happening in
the soil. C3 cereal crops provide sugars to soil microbes, such as fungi,
nematodes, and protozoa, during the time when the C4 plants are dormant,
which can improve soil fertility faster than a C4 pasture alone might. This
also speeds up nutrient cycling, promotes an improved water cycle,
increases nitrogen content, and adds organic matter to the soil, which can
build humus. Additionally, the no-till drill lightly aerates the soil,
allowing oxygen and water to infiltrate.

Another key is using grazing animals to prepare the C4 field before
drilling. Grazing animals hit the perennial pasture hard, which gives the
C4 plants a “headache,” according to Seis, so that the C4 plants come up
slowly, giving the C3 plants a chance to grow. By hitting the pasture hard
with a large mob of sheep in a time-controlled manner, Seis can keep the C4
plants from growing too tall too early, and thus prevent them from shading
the C3 plants. Animals can also control weeds, create litter on the soil
surface, supply a pulse of organic nutrients for the crops, and remove dry
plant residue from the pasture.

Courtesy of Winona Farms
After the oat crop is harvested, the grazing begins. This process, which
largely avoids chemical fertilizer, herbicides, and pesticides, has brought
tremendous benefits to the soil.

Seis says his use of sheep mobs has been controversial in some quarters due
to a concern about soil compaction. This is only a problem where there are
low levels of ground cover and litter, he says, or when the ground is very
wet. “Where there are good perennial pastures and ground cover,” says Seis,
“pasture-cropped paddocks show very little compaction and soil structure
problems.”

Proper sowing is another key. So is an assessment of a pasture’s potential
before a farmer tries to crop it. Seis has some advice before sowing: Graze
the paddock to three to four inches. Create as much litter as possible. Use
an herbicide to control weeds only if absolutely necessary. Use no-till
equipment to sow at the correct depth and row spacing. Sow the correct crop
for your soil type. Conduct a soil test, if possible. Sow crops up to two
weeks earlier than usual (crops sown by pasture cropping are slower to
develop). Avoid the use of fertilizer as much as possible—it shouldn’t be
necessary. In Seis’ case, he started with normal rates of fertilizer, but
reduced its use by 70 percent over time and today only uses organic
fertilizer at very low rates.

One more key: never, never, never use a plow.

Seis also cautions that crop yields at the beginning are usually lower than
with conventional industrial agricultural methods. He says this is more
than offset by the ability to produce two (or three) products from the same
bit of land, plus all the fertility that is being built up in the soil.

In 2010 the University of Sydney conducted a research project on Winona and
an adjoining farm to evaluate the effects of pasture cropping versus
conventional management on soil health and ecosystem function. Under the
direction of Peter Ampt, the project compared paddocks of similar size on
each farm. Here are some of the results of the research: Winona’s paddock
was 83 percent native perennial grass species, while the neighbor’s paddock
was 88 percent annual weed species. There was greater ecosystem function on
Winona. Soil microbial counts showed that Winona had significantly higher
amounts of fungi and bacteria over the neighboring farm. Finally, crop
yields were the same on the two farms, and Winona’s sheep-stocking rate was
double.

In the study’s conclusion, Ampt and Sarah Doornbos write:

These results illustrate that the rotational grazing and pasture cropping
practiced on the innovator site can increase perennial vegetative ground
cover and litter inputs, compared to the continuous grazing system and
conventional cropping practiced on the comparison site. Increased
perenniality and ground cover lead to improved landscape function in the
pasture through increased stability, water infiltration and nutrient
cycling, which in turn can lead to improved soil physical and chemical
properties, more growth of plants and micro-organisms, and an ultimately
more sustainable landscape. It also shows that rotational grazing and
pasture cropping can improve landscape function while sustaining similar or
higher stocking rates over the year compared to the conventional system.1

The study corroborated Seis’ intuition about what was happening on Winona.
It also proved that he hadn’t been so drunk after all!
More Good News

There are other good reasons to give pasture cropping a go.

It can be used as a land-restoration strategy, for example. That’s
precisely how Seis used it on Winona—to convert a worn-out, weed-dominated,
burned-over, failing patch of farmland into an ecologically healthy and
economically profitable landscape. He did it by rotating pasture cropping
around his farm over time, generally only cropping one quarter of his farm
at a time. Seis is convinced the same strategy can be used anywhere similar
C3-C4 plant relationships exist. “It’s a great way to rebuild grasslands
and can happen almost anywhere there’s enough rain to grow a crop,” he
says. In arid environments, he says, you must drill more carefully and
expect yields to be lower, especially in the first few years. “It can also
be done with horses or electric engines, I suppose,” he says. “You’re only
limited by your imagination.”

By the way, don’t use fire to do this job, he insists. Don’t burn anything.
“Throw your matches away,” he instructs. Use livestock instead.

Courtney White
A window display at Sydney airport advertises Merino wool, the type sheared
and sold by Winona Farms.

Another benefit is increased carbon, which Seis calls “rocket fuel for
plants.” According to research conducted by Christine Jones, soil organic
carbon has increased 203 percent over 10 years on Winona compared to the
same neighboring farm studied by Ampt (the farm is owned by Seis’ brother,
who, Seis says, has been a good sport and good conventional farmer). Jones
calculates that 171 tons of CO2 per hectare has been sequestered to a depth
of half a meter on Winona. This has contributed to a dramatic increase in
the water-holding capacity of the soil as well, which, according to Jones
has increased by 200 percent in 10 years and can now store over 360,000
liters per hectare with every rainfall event.

It’s the same with other minerals. Winona has seen the following increases:
227 percent more calcium, 138 percent more magnesium, 146 percent more
potassium, 157 percent more sulphur, 186 percent more zinc, 151 percent
more phosphorus, 122 percent more iron, 202 percent more copper, 156
percent more boron, and 179 percent more cobalt. It has 277 percent more
calcium than the neighboring farm, and 151 percent more phosphorus.

Another benefit is what some farmers call *vertical stacking*—the stacking
of enterprises on a farm that fit together and thus build more profit per
acre. Pasture cropping is a perfect example. It also lowers the cost of
growing crops to a fraction of conventional cropping methods. The added
benefit is that up to six months extra grazing is achieved compared with
the loss of grazing due to ground preparation and weed control required in
traditional cropping methods. Other benefits include the recruitment of
perennial plant numbers and diversity of the pasture following the crop.
This means that there is no need to re-sow pastures, which can cost from
$100 to $150 per hectare.

“The best way to improve your profits is to improve your soil,” Seis likes
to say.

And there’s no reason pasture cropping can’t be done organically, thus
adding value to both the cereal and animal products. Winona isn’t certified
organic, mostly because Seis likes to keep “every tool in the toolbox” when
managing the land. But it would be very easy for someone else to farm
organically.

All of these reasons are why pasture cropping has spread to 2,500 farms
across Australia and a few other nations as well, including the United
States, Norway, and South Africa, according to Seis. The main obstacle is
climate—grass species need a true dormant season for the technique to work
properly, a condition that is unusual in tropical and sub-tropical
environments. Another obstacle can be the land’s lack of perennial grasses
due to overgrazing, drought, or a combination of the two. This can be
overcome, however, by re-sowing grass species and then encouraging their
growth through pasture cropping, which stimulates plant vigor and seed
recruitment once grasses take hold.

There’s one further obstacle, Seis told me: our brains. Age-old practices
and beliefs, such as plowing, are too frequently the number one impediment
to the adoption of innovative ideas. Moving our brains “out of the way,” as
Seis puts it, is necessary. And it isn’t easy, he notes.

For Seis, it took 10 beers!

*This essay was originally published in Acres magazine. For more of
Courtney White’s writing on conservation and agriculture see:
www.awestthatworks.com.*
References

   1. Ampt, P & Doornbos, S. Communities and Landscapes project: Benchmark
   Study of Innovators. The University of Sydney (2011) [online]
   
http://sydney.edu.au/agriculture/documents/2011/reports/Ampt_CiL_BM_Comb...<http://sydney.edu.au/agriculture/documents/2011/reports/Ampt_CiL_BM_CombinedReportSept2011DRAFT.pdf>