(Picture from
here.)
We’re
now in our final harvest: chestnuts. Now, I’m in a fairly good position to
judge the entire season.
It wasn't good.
First,
let’s talk about the chestnuts.
We have three chestnut trees: Big Guy, Little Sister, and
Baby. Big Guy is an American chestnut, hybridized with a Chinese chestnut and
backcrossed to create an American chestnut with blight resistance. He’s fully
grown and has been producing nuts for several years now. Little Sister is a
modified Chinese chestnut that can cross fertilize with Big Guy so we get nuts.
Chinese chestnuts are naturally blight resistance. Baby is a mammoth American
chestnut of indeterminate blight resistance. She is only about four years old
and not really flowering yet. All attributions of gender are completely
arbitrary.
This
year we’ve harvested in excess of forty pounds of chestnuts from Big Guy and
Little Sister. Harvesting has to be done differently between the two trees. Big
Guy drops the burrs containing the nuts. Little Sister opens the burrs on the
tree and drops the nuts. We’re always in competition with the squirrels.
Forty
pounds of chestnuts sounds like more than it is. Chestnuts are made of three
components: burr, husk, and nut. The burr is spikey. The spines go through most
gloves. The husk then has to be removed. The remaining nut must then be dried.
The forty pounds is husked, undried nuts. So, it will be significantly less
yield when we’re done processing them.
Using
Big Guy as an example, a burr is supposed to hold up to three nuts. If there
isn’t sufficient pollination, there might be burr filled with “flatties”: nuts
that weren’t pollinated turn into this strange looking flat nut. Not even the
squirrels like it.
We got a
lot of flatties.
In
general, we had a problem with pollination. Mostly we blame the weather. We had
a warm May, cold and raining June, mixed rest of the summer. The chestnuts
flower and get pollinated in the May-June time frame. Consequently, we didn’t
get as much of a harvest as we would have liked.
But the
weather is even stranger.
We’ve
had a very warm September and October. It didn’t get much below sixty until
mid-month and we’ve had no frost or even any danger of frost. At one point, Big
Guy was sporting flowers on one branch while adjacent branches were making
burrs.
I’ve
mentioned before about the persimmon which set about a dozen fruit. Usually, we
get pounds and pounds of persimmons. Ditto Cornelian cherries. We had an
unusual infestation black rot on the Concord grapes and the Marechal Fochs had
a lot of immature grapes when we harvested them.
We’ve
been seeing this pattern for the last several years. And it’s only getting
worse. There’s a number of other indicators. Back in the day, we’d get some
warmth through May but didn’t dare plant the outside garden until Memorial Day.
By September, we’d be having cool, dry nights and certainly by mid-October,
we’d had a frost and be in brief warm spell in October. During the winter, we’d
get sticking snow starting sometime in December, a thaw in late January, then
socked in on snow and cold temperatures in February through early March. (Cold
means hovering in the low twenties with a drop below zero for a few days at a
time.) Then, things would be spotty all through May.
That is
not the case these days. The pattern seems to be evolving that we have an
elongated comparatively wet fall up until late December. Then, a snow/thaw
cycle punctuated with occasional plunges well below zero. March and April are
still quite changeable. Beginning in late April, the weather turns quite warm
through May, followed by a cold, wet June. Looking outside on 10/18, we have
the first true fall day. It was in the forties last night and today it is in
the sixties.
Just a
few years ago, we had Christmas dinner out on the picnic tables. It was too
warm to do it inside.
This is,
of course, a local manifestation of climate change.
We are
not subsistence farmers. We’re more advanced gardeners. But the issues that are
plaguing us are only larger agricultural problems as evidenced in our small
space. I have a friend of mine from Georgia who is gratified the weather is
more like what he’s used to—and gratified he’s no longer living in Georgia
which, I think, is moving away from habitability.
My point
is that climate change is messing with our food supply now. It will mess with
it more in the near future. We are going to have a collision in the close
generational future between climate change, crops that are not adapted to the
new climate reality, and nine billion people. This is fact now. This is
what is baked in from what we have already done. The future does not look good
for bananas, cocoa, and coffee. We are even entering the time of climate
induced sickness.
And we
are adding to the problem every year.
I can’t
say this enough. We are seeing this now. We will be seeing more. The CO2 we’ve
already added to the atmosphere will be there for thousands of years. The
methane will be there for hundreds. If we stopped right now, the CO2 would
cause the temperature to top out at +2
degrees Celsius. That’s what I mean by baked in. Every year we add
another gigaton or two and that becomes baked in. Every year after that.
2C is a third
of the way towards the Paleocene-Eocene
Thermal Maximum (PETM). From what I’ve read, that world would be a
miserable place for us.
There
are people whose fortunes are committed to making this problem worse. At this
point, I tend to think that anyone who saying that climate change isn’t
happening is either uninformed or making
money off it. We should not be arguing whether or not to fix this. We
should be arguing how to fix
this. We should be starting those fixes now.
KĂĽbler-Ross’ five steps of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression
and acceptance. I think it’s a good model for handling any catastrophic change
in life. I think it’s applicable to our handling of climate change.
I just wish the hell we’d get past step one.