Of
Wolves and
We had seen plenty of
evidence during the day to suggest there were wolves in the area. Just after
moonrise we left the warming shack behind and crunched our way back along the
trail as quietly as we could. Eight grade eleven students, their teacher, a
retired naturalist and two chaperons were on a school sponsored winter camping
expedition. Buzz, the naturalist, stopped us at the top of a knoll. He cupped
his hands to his mouth and let out a low, slowly rising howl. We stood, each
expectant face bathed softly by the full moon, waiting for the wolves to call
back. Buzz repeated his call. Total silence. No
response. Or so we thought.
Earlier that day we had skied the trails and river ways around
Lumbricus terrestrus, the
humble earthworm doesn’t inspire awe or empathy, and so it may be difficult
launching a defense campaign on its behalf on prime time TV. If there was an
Oscar, though, for best supporting actor in our annual horticultural drama, the
earthworm should win hands down. The worm is no less wild than the wolf and no
less shy about being in human company. But it is infinitely more beneficial
than any animal to the productivity of our farms, gardens and communities. “It
may be doubted,” wrote Charles Darwin, “whether there are many other animals
which have played so important a part in the history of the world as have these
lowly organized creatures.” Earthworms, like stay-at-home dads and moms, aren’t
generally respected for their contributions to the common good. In their
relentless, methodical way, worms ingest organic matter and soil, mix these
with digestive juices and leave behind castings tailor made, in nutrient
content and ph level, for the plants above and around them. Worm castings are
rich in micronutrients and have five times the nitrogen, seven times the
phosphorus and eleven times the potash as an equal amount of prairie soil. In a
one thousand square meter garden of worm-rich soil they can contribute as much
as 150 kgs of castings in one growing season. All they ask of us is to be left
alone.
Sadly and ironically, it’s
the synthetic fertilizers and pesticides we use in our soils that cause
earthworms the most grief. Nitrogen fertilizers,
derived from natural gas and most commonly sold to gardeners as urea or
ammonium nitrates, sulfates and phosphates, are the most harmful because of the
acidic conditions they create in the soil. In root crops where pesticides are
injected into the soil, these unpaid worker-worms are poisoned along with the
targeted worms and insects. We have all seen tired, hard pan soil that is
devoid of earthworms. It lacks the transforming abilities of worm rich soil,
making it increasingly dependent on fertilizers brought in from great
distances; like feeding soda pop to a baby when breast milk is available.
Organic farmers and
gardeners have proven that we can live harmoniously with and derive great
benefit from the wildlife in our soils. Organic standards prohibit growers from
using petroleum-based fertilizers and pesticides. These standards also go
beyond the ‘must nots’ by providing a list of ‘permitted materials’ that can be
used to amend the soil, prevent disease and deter unwanted insects. Organic
growers use compost, green manure and nitrogen fixing plants like peas, beans,
clovers and alfalfa to stimulate biological activity. Nitrogen fixing plants
take nitrogen out of the air and deposit it in the soil through their fine
roots making the nitrogen available to a companion or a successive crop.
Increasingly homemakers are
searching out organic and natural foods. By so doing we as a society are
supporting this gentler, long-term approach to agriculture. This is not,
though, only about growing food. Conventional farmers, it can be argued, at
least learn to apply the chemical they use in a measured way. According to a
survey I heard recently, on average, urban gardeners use twice as much
synthetic chemical per square meter on their lawns and gardens as farmers do on
their fields. In their patient way, organic growers are inviting us to walk
more gently on this earth and offer safe haven to our wild partners, even if we
can’t hear them calling on a still, dark night.
We all tried out our
howling voices that night. We didn’t hear the wolves respond. But the next day
when we went back along that path, there were wolf tracks all around the area
where we had been standing. Both they and the worms know about intelligent life
on this planet. Most of the time, friends, it ain’t
us.