I had one of those rare experiences last weekend driving back home from a visit with my aunt in the Bay area, where the beauty of the present moment completely overwhelmed me. I was filled with wonder for the sights I saw while crossing the Central Valley even though I had made the drive many times before. Maybe it was the clarity of the air having finally been washed clean by the previous night's rain after two long parched months, or the disorientation imparted by the high gray blanket of cirrostratus clouds rippling across the sky. Or perhaps as my understanding of the valley culture has increased over time, my resistance to and judgement of the land has been reduced. I see now that where there is conflict, there can also be beauty.
 |
| Soil and Sky |
The scale of agricultural operations in the Central Valley is epic. Coming down the east side of the coast range, rolling ranch lands give way to a vast expanse of orchards, vineyards and fields. This valley is the primary source of tomatoes, almonds, grapes, cotton, apricots and asparagus for the United States. Hundreds of miles of aqueducts bisect the land transporting snow melt to irrigate these crops. The largest feedlot in the country spreads across hundreds of acres along the interstate. These facts do much to generate controversy and strong opinions in peoples' minds for many reasons.
 |
| Grapevines |
My very first trip across the seemingly homogeneous landscape left me feeling unsettled. I described the flowering almond orchards to a friend as "living things lined up in a perfect grid pattern with absolutely nothing growing on the ground beneath them. Beautiful, but kind of eerie too." Since that time, I have driven past countless farm workers picking in the fields, purchased local produce from independently owned farm stands and stores, and heard the descendants of migrant farm workers reflect back on their family contribution to valley agriculture with great pride, having overcome adversity and raised children who were able to go to college. I've experienced the impact of weather on the variety of fruits and vegetables that arrive in my weekly local produce basket, and better understand now that while a night below freezing may not affect me, it is a very real financial threat for our farming community. These realizations have given humanity and purpose to an otherwise artificial looking landscape.
 |
| Flowering almond orchards in the spring |
Conversely, I have connected the sickly brown haze obscuring the mountains and sky at the end of every October with the valley nut harvest when all the trees are being violently shaken, and been cautioned to avoid traveling through the valley when the cotton plants are being chemically defoliated. My job at work revolves around monitoring unhealthy levels of ozone in the summer, and particulate matter in the winter. I have seen how conversations about snow pack, groundwater and water rights immediately increase the level of intensity in a room. I have read about the impacts of shifting wealth over the past few decades, as more and more acreage is concentrated into fewer and fewer hands. The Central Valley is now known as much for its stunning poverty rates as its agricultural power, with isolated rural communities that lack even the most basic services most of us take for granted. History and tradition are now laced with fragility and concern, as the people of the Central Valley come to terms with the results of increased production and profit.
 |
| Cotton tufts |
It is important for us to consider our need for food in balance with the resources required to produce it. We would do well to remember that although our current agricultural system has changed dramatically over the past one hundred years, it was started by people attempting to meet a basic human need. All of us can appreciate the sense of pride that comes from self-sufficiency, and many of us know a special connection to nature through the seasons. These sentiments are still felt by farmers today, even in an age of industrialized agricultural practices. Perhaps the first step toward compromise involves opening our eyes - to the people who own and are employed by the industry, to the resources that are being used and the impacts that occur as a result, to the consumers who partake of the bounty from this land, and to the land as it exists today. If we can break away from our indignation even for a moment to look around with a fresh perspective, we might see that humans have accomplished the impossible in so many ways, harnessing the power of nature to our advantage for thousands of years. We derive inspiration and connection from the natural landscape at the same time we reside upon it and use its resources. Perhaps in being able to acknowledge both the beauty and complexity present in places where controversy resides, we can find common ground and move forward in our efforts to peaceably sustain.
 |
| Ranch land on the east side of the coast range |
