Snirt Alert

If you've been driving in the country around my neck of the woods lately, you have probably observed a fair amount of snirt on the edges of fields and in the ditches by the roads.  If you're not from around here or you are not a person who periodically drives in rural areas where row crop fields are the predominant feature in the landscape, then I suspect you might not know what snirt is...  until now.

All you have to do is look at the picture above.  The pile at the right is a snow drift on the north edge of our property.  Snow is, of course, typically thought to be white in color.  But, that's not true if a fair amount of dirt came for the ride as the wind blew across acre upon acre of flat ground that has very little for windbreaks or groundcover.

Our farm has very deep snow drifts on the north and west edges because we have been working to develop vertical buffer strips around our farm with trees, grasses, bushes and even brush piles. But to be more accurate, our farm has had drifts on the edges every year we've been here once we took land in the southwest and east and changed it over to diversified production with buffer strips and pathways.

Today's snirt is on our farm, in part, because of the words of Earl Butz, Secretary of Agriculture for Richard M. Nixon.  Butz called upon farmers in the United States to plant from fencerow to fencerow and encouraged individual farms to get big or get out.  I should be clear here, however, that his declaration in 1973 did not mark the beginning of snirt in Iowa and other locations.  It merely emphasized a style of agriculture that has little regard for diversity and natural processes - a style that was already gaining steam, especially after World War II.

As a matter of fact, it started when Europeans moved west across the American continent and were insistent on adapting the land to their agriculture versus adapting their agriculture to the land.

Before you think that I will now make the claim that I know the best way to be a steward of the land without a shadow of a doubt, let me disabuse you of that notion.  I am fully aware that I do not have all of the answers.  All I know is that Tammy and I are dedicated to doing our best to be good stewards that listen to the land and are willing to be servants that keep it as healthy as we are able.  That means we make the best decisions and take the best actions we can with what we know and then adjust as we learn more.

There are, however, some things I do have a pretty good idea about.  For example, all of the "recreational tillage" so many land operators partook of this fall has resulted in places like ours collecting a batch of their top soil.  It is pretty well known that excessive tillage in abnormally dry to drought conditions is a bad idea.  And, if you don't believe me, here is some information from Iowa State University that gives you some reasons why this is the case.  And if you don't believe them, do some more searching on your own, I'm pretty confident that I've got this one right.

And to top it off, most of the state still looks pretty colorful given the January drought monitor.

Before you think I am getting all "high and mighty" here - let me admit that we have made mistakes at the Genuine Faux Farm and not made the best decisions for our land all of the time.  In fact, we have, at times, taken actions that were completely the wrong ones.  And that's part of the reason why I struggle with what I observe here.

I'm not convinced that enough people are thinking all that hard about whether their actions, when it comes to the land, are the right actions.  If they did, I would think knowledge regarding best and worst time to conduct tillage would be more common - and it would be less likely that so many would run contrary to that wisdom.

This drift along the north line of our farm is as deep as six to eight feet in places - and this is after they've been reduced a bit in size.  The first two evergreens you see in this picture are both about twelve feet tall.  Most of this is courtesy of the pre-Christmas storm that brought frigid cold, high winds and ... two to six inches of snow.

I think it is safe to say that our farm collected most of the snow that fell on it.  Though, with winds like that I am sure some of it blew somewhere else.  But, my point is these drifts formed because there are miles and miles of land in Iowa that has very little to no breaks for that wind.  When the particulates - both snow and soil - finally get slowed down by a few trees, bushes and tall grasses, they land.

And pile up.

The picture above gives you a good case study.  The area to the north of Valhalla has a bush line at the property edge.  The land between the bush line and the high tunnel has some tall (ish) grass.  It is not bare ground.  You can see white snow that probably gives me evidence that our farm likely got about 3 inches of snow, maybe four during that storm.

But then you look at the drift that formed nearer the bushes and you see the snirt.  The drift here is about five feet tall and gets taller as you move away from the picture, probably getting to eight feet at the far end. 

You see, the land at our farm is capturing much of its snow, despite the wind.  And, I think that's great because we want to replenish the soil moisture.  And snow, water filtration, freeze/unfreeze cycles are all part of the natural processes we rely on to help keep our soil healthy.

And we're also importing a fair amount of snow and dirt because others are refusing delivery of their snow.  Take a good look around at the corn and soybean fields and you will find very little snow there.

I watched a neighbor applying an amendment to their fields this past week and they drove heavy equipment along the edge of their field near the road entry point.  That ground is, certainly, more compacted than the rest.  By my observation, that area has lower yields.  Just by looking at it from the road, I can tell.  I would not enter their property without their permission.

I can also tell you, by observing from the road, that their worst weed pressures are along this edge of the field.  Lower production and higher costs, all in this strip at the edge of their fields.  The economics of it alone tell me that it might be wise to seek another solution.  Perhaps a grass strip?  Or a prairie strip?  Maybe allow the fenceline by the road to be something that catches the wind.

Maybe Earl Butz was mistaken and that we need to till it all up.  

Maybe I shouldn't say anything so I can keep collecting everyone else's top soil?