No, I'm not considering moving to Michigan to live in a colder climate. The zone 5 I've been rethinking is the permaculture zone that lies farthest from your home. For those unfamiliar with this zone system, your house and immediate environs would be zone 1. You live here and visit most parts of this zone daily. Examples of typical elements are a kitchen garden and henhouse. Zone 2 is a little farther away and requires slightly less attention, perhaps including an orchard or larger production garden. Zones 3 and 4 are more distant and require only occasional visits. Depending on the site, elements of these zones might be wood lots, pastures, or row cropping areas. The purpose of the system is to give you a framework for thinking about designing your property to promote maximum convenience and avoid wasting time in excess travel as you go about your tasks, be they daily, weekly, or seasonal.
Zone 5 is different, not just because it's far away and typically visited seldom. While zones 1 through 4 are actively utilized for food, fuel, or other human needs, zone 5 is generally not manipulated for production purposes. It's respected as wilderness, or at least kept as close to a wild state as possible. You might sustainably harvest mushrooms or wild plants here, but more likely might visit simply to observe and enjoy nature, de-stress, and recharge your energy levels.
Bill Mollison, co-founder of permaculture, had this to say about wild forests: "If we lose the forest, we lose our only instructor. And people must see these forests and wilderness as the greatest educational system that we have on the planet."
It's pretty obvious that if we want to develop agricultural systems than work with nature, we need to understand how nature works. Observation forms the foundation of science; many permaculture practitioners advise observing a piece of land for a year before embarking on any drastic changes. Observation of a site can teach you about patterns of sun and shade in different seasons, how rain water infiltrates and/or runs off after a storm, and what plants have volunteered to grow there. Knowing the land is extremely useful if you're planning on utilizing it to provide for yourself and family.
Observing zone 5 offers a different kind of lesson. In stark contrast to the bit of degraded land most planners start with, a mature ecosystem showcases the possibilities of the land. Those lucky enough to visit a climax forest may observe a stunning level of species richness. You may discover a gorgeous demonstration of forest layers, or amazing adaptations to microclimates. Visiting zone 5 serves to provide inspiration and further your understanding of ecological processes. This knowledge then informs any actions taken on land under your stewardship.
While I believe we should also include grasslands, riparian zones, deserts, and other natural areas in addition to forests when we speak of zone 5, I don't feel the fundamental premise of zone 5 is controversial or requires rethinking. There is however a glaring problem to be faced as we approach the 50 year anniversary of permacultue's founding: For many people of the world, no natural areas exist within easy travelling distance. People in sprawling urban locales, conventionally cultivated agricultural areas, or refugee camps, for example, may not have the opportunity to visit anything resembling a wild area. Municipal parks provide much needed green space, but are usually highly tended and don't approximate wilderness. Those of us in wealthy countries where large land tracts have been preserved as national and state parks take visiting wild areas for granted, and probably aren't giving much thought to the issue, but the portion of the global population unable to access relatively untouched nature is large and growing. What does this mean for the future of permaculture? Without the opportunity to observe nature in spots relatively untrammeled by humans, will the potential of future practitioners be stunted? (Let me clarify that I'm not implying that all human influence on land or nature is negative, nor am I working under the premise that humans are somehow outside of or above nature. But let's be honest: Most human action is undertaken with little thought or no thought to its effect on other species and the land.)
I suspect that in our culture of careening from one goal to the next, the importance of slow contemplation of natural systems is already falling by the wayside. I will speculate that the modus operandi of the modern permaculturist is to skip this step altogether in favor of getting an expert in to advise or crowd-sourcing the best design solutions on social media. I am not totally dismissing these tacks; with the intersecting crises of climate change, ecosystem collapse, and now global pandemic, I appreciate the need to get stuff done quickly. Something is definitely lost however when we don't spend at least part our time merely observing, ideally in an area that approaches zone 5.
For those unable to visit mature forests or other natural areas, the best alternative is to observe sites where nature is actively reestablishing itself. In degraded areas there is enormous possibility for learning if the area is large enough and mostly left alone. Such areas are everywhere, but are often small and fragmented. This is where community comes in: Leaving a corner of your yard as a wild area is great, but joining with neighbors to create a wildlife corridor or green oasis is even better. The idea is to reach a critical mass of land in order to approximate a wild area. This could be achieved by taking over abandoned lots in urban settings or convincing suburban neighbors to give up portions of their lawn where properties abut. These areas then provide an opportunity to observe regeneration. I use the phrase "mostly left alone" because I'm not discounting the the idea of humans assisting in the process, but that's material for another blog post.
For me personally, the greatest lessons have come from observing abandoned farmland as it reverts to forest. In my opinion, witnessing the succession that is happening rivals the experience of visiting a climax forest. I can observe not only how the land wants to be, but also how it goes about getting there. Decades of conventional farming practices left a legacy of depleted soils and hugely reduced biodiversity on my farm. Yet faced with scorching sun, gully washing downpours, regular bouts of high water, wave attacks from invasive alien plants, and the emerald ashborer, the land is not discouraged or perturbed. Succession marches on with infinite natural logic and a perfect economy. There is no waste, and no haste. There is no timeline. Everything is exactly as it needs to be. The land does not think ahead, imagining its goal, but merely carries out the processes that naturally lead to higher complexity. Greatest educational system on the planet? Yes, indeed.
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