"Five days prior to the summer solstice at Geer Crest Farm in Oregon, on a slope known by the farm family as “Nettle Hill,” about half of the population of the infamous stinging nettle plants has bland beginnings of flowers. The other half seems more reluctant to transition from their youthful spring form as, one-by-one, their lower leaves begin to fade to a yellowy pale-brown.
For biodynamic preparation 504, it was strongly recommended to us that we harvest stinging nettles in the early part of the day, between dawn and noon, when the earth’s energetics are comparable to the exhalation of breath and when the vitality of plants is most present in their aboveground parts while photosynthesis occurs. In addition, though, the issue of convenience in the context of busy farm-life was also discussed and, on this particular day, the task of harvesting stinging nettles did not occur until after dinner when time allowed for the harvesting and burying to be immediately sequential.
That being said, our participation in the process was anything but rushed. Before collecting the plants, we dug a hole which by our estimation was about 18 inches deep and 32 inches long perpendicular to the west-facing slope of Nettle Hill. It seemed right to bury the nettles close to their home in a spot along a fence separating a part of the farm along the stream bank that is intentionally kept unmanaged as a naturalized area for plants and wildlife. While digging, we kept the mood jovial, making jokes and admiring the dark brown, loose soil as the sun gradually slipped below the horizon. We pulled several medium-sized rocks from the hole, all of which we later used to make a ring around the site, finding each its right place in the circle.
With gloves and hand pruners, we harvested the plants at the base and made several small piles in the path that goes around a large oak tree as we thinned different sections of the hillside. Since we had been told to use the entire plant except for the roots, we did not pull any plants out of the ground. After some time we gathered our small piles together, brought them to the hole, and estimated that when compressed the big pile would equal the appropriate 12 inches in height.
As recommended, we stood two boards in the north and south ends of hole (each about as wide as the pile of stacked nettles) in order to simplify the matter of where to begin digging when we uncover the plants next June. At the bottom of the hole, we spread a layer of peat moss about half to one inch thick before laying down the nettles, and then covered them with a layer of about the same thickness before adding the displaced soil.
At Geer Crest Farm, we felt that that, if we were to use biodynamic preparations, it was most appropriate that they be made on the farm with plants and sheaths from the farm and immediate community. As the farm functions today, one cannot deny that there is already a true and healthy sense of “viewing the farm as an organism.” Within the 20 acres of the farm, there is a profound diversity of biological systems and communities, both wild and cultivated, which are already fairly well integrated with each other due to the approach and respect taken by the farmers.
The effort to transition to biodynamics at Geer Crest is being held with caution. For those involved, there are varying degrees of readiness and, at times, signs of healthy skepticism. The communal intention here is to grow into biodynamics, seeing how it finds its place on the farm, and to approach it with respect, but also with questions. Meanwhile, the nettles, the deep-rooted white oak trees, wild yarrow, and inevitable dandelions that were already here are being joined by timely gifts of valerian, cow horns, and a skull."
