This is an open letter to my neighbors and community members in rural Northeastern Pennsylvania that I wrote for my local paper. I thought I’d share it here.
“Be careful what you wish for” is generally good advice we give to the wanting all throughout our lives. Who knew it was going to be so prescient right now? For the last two years our area farmers wished and prayed and begged for mercy in the face of torrential amounts of rain. And then it came this year. And the “relief” from the rain never stopped. After spring rains hydrated the soil, April turned into May and the sun came out and it was dry with almost no rain at all through September.
For some context, the last two years have been nothing short of disasters for farmers across Bradford County, Pennsylvania, and the entire United States. The 12-month period between June 2018 and June 2019 was the wettest 12-month period in recorded US history. Those springs were so wet a lot of farmers couldn’t get in their fields to even plant in the spring. Nationwide last year 20 million acres of cropland were left unplanted, an area the size of South Carolina. Locals will remember various road closures due to erosion and stream overflows were the norm last year. On my own farm we had planned to plant over 100 acres of corn to feed our dairy cows and barely managed to get 80 into our thinnest-soiled fields on ridge tops to minimize wetness. The constant downpours not only kept farmers out of the fields, it washed away a lot of high-quality topsoil that would take decades to re-form in the best of circumstances with no human exploitation.
This year farmers thought they’d learned a thing or two. As soon as ground started to dry in March and April we sprinted out to plant our grain crops and harvest our hay. The hay never grew back after that first cutting. Corn up and down the valley and all across Pennsylvania curled and turned brown and dried up. Pastures turned to dust with only the heartiest weeds tolerating the dry weather. We’d finally got a break from the rain.
Everyone knows these kinds of things happen. There will always be wet years and dry years and not even the Farmer’s Almanac can predict which will come next. But here’s the thing; these years are getting worse. Going solely on discharge of Towanda Creek, this has been the driest year since 2001. 2018 was the wettest year in Pennsylvania’s history. In fact, the previous 4 years (2016-2019) were the wettest 4-year period in state history according to NOAA. And now we’re following that up with a drought year where we’ve received 5 less inches of rain this year than average. Weather events don’t normally swing this drastically. What’s causing it? Why are our dry, hot years getting drier and hotter and wet cold years wetter and colder? The same reason every few years they have to build up Florida’s roads to resist water level rise. The same reason hurricanes hitting the southern coast seem to get stronger each year.
It’s time y’all. The National Corn Grower’s Association has a climate task force. The USDA set up climate hubs throughout the US to help farmers make their operations more sustainable. The US Farmers and Ranchers in Action released a report in September stating climate goals. My own milk company Danone has set the lofty goal of total carbon neutrality company wide, from its corporate offices, to responsible packaging, to yes even down to me, a milk producer. Ag giants like Tyson and Cargill have teamed up with The Nature Conservancy to help pay farmers to sequester carbon.
All the big players in agriculture are working toward new sustainability goals. Sequestering carbon is no longer a project by urban gardeners in liberal cityscapes. It’s time for us in the heartland to step up and do our part. Even while our politicians nit and pick at green new deals and Paris accords, we live with the consequences of our own inaction. It’s time we as farmers started taking climate change seriously.