Some days we stumble into an experience that perfectly illustrates, in a boots in the mud sort of way, the ideas and concepts we are exploring here at the PN Farm Arts Initiative. I’d love today to tell the story of the day the cows ate the willow.
On a gray February day in 2024, David and I visited the delta at the mouth of the Lewis River with Ben and Julie Johnson, scouting willow for that spring’s basket weaving class with Julie. When David was a child, the delta was mostly sand bar, but in the years since it has morphed, as river deltas do, into a grassy field rimmed by willow as you near the water’s edge. When I first reached out to Julie about teaching on the farm, I shared with her my hope that she would be able to use willow from the farm for her class, as a collaboration with the landscape, and a hyper-local making experience. I had scouted this grove with my neighbor Robin Brady of Windfall Craft and Basketry earlier in the fall, and got a crash course on harvesting, and now we were excited to bring Julie and Ben out to see if we could gather enough for a class.
The willow groves were healthy and multi-hued that February day, and Julie and Ben taught us how to harvest ethically—which whips to look for, where to cut them, and, perhaps most important, how to harvest with a respect for the plants, and an eye to leaving things better than we found them. A happy benefit of doing things right for the willow grove is that you can set yourselves up for future collaborations, leaving the plant better than you found it, and providing ample materials for future years’ weaving projects. Julie’s class that spring in random-weave basketry was the realization of a lifelong dream for me—to make my own basket!—and would turn out to be the first of many weaving classes here on the farm.
Fast forward to a sunny October day, and the four of us headed back out to the same grove, this time with Robin was along for the ride as well. They were planning a spring class, and were hoping to harvest the bulk of the materials from the farm. With that hope in mind, Robin had visited the carefully prepared willows the week before, and made a disturbing discovery—the patch had been heavily browsed by some four-legged ruminant. And it looked more cow than deer, to Robin’s practiced eye.
And here’s where the fun of running an arts initiative on a farm comes in. Because it turns out, the cows were released into the willow patch on purpose!
David is always looking for innovative ways to control weeds and invasive species on the farm, working with the Clark Conservation District, the Natural Resources Conservation Service, and other entities to manage the farm with in a way that minimizes the need for high-impact interventions. And he had recently learned that cows eat the false indigo that was starting to clog up the delta where the willows grow. In an effort to combat this invasive species without chemicals, he decided to graze the cattle in the indigo and let them take care of it.
The problem was: I didn’t successfully communicate the plan for willow stewardship, so the cows were fenced right into the patch of art materials, and when they finished the indigo they went to work on the willow. Can’t blame them—those new shoots would have been pretty tender and delicious in a winter pasture!
It all ended ok, and the five of us spent a beautiful morning tromping around the farm looking for other stands of weaving materials, but it’s a great example of the mesh of relationships that comprise this initiative. The land, the rivers, the plants, the animals, the farmers, the artists – all of us exist together on this land, crossing paths, interweaving our intentions. It’s a dynamic place. It keeps us on our toes, and it’s a true delight to share it. We hope you’ll come out to see us!