One year ago I was losing sleep over weeds. We were rounding out our first summer at our new home: a small meadow that boasts lush grasses as high as the fence, interspersed by radiant hues of blossoming pentstemon, camas lily, shooting star, sticky geranium, buttercup, cow parsnip, and woodland star. But last year, August sun baked the grasses to crisps.
Flowers faded away. Grasshoppers chewed leaves. And yet, in a low pocket in the meadow, a curious green remained. From a distance it looked lovely. Something still lush and green. Upon closer inspection, though, my heart sank. That patch of healthy green had thorns: Canada thistle.
I went into a panic. Weeds. We have to get rid of them. They cannot spread. I pored through the internet, searching for effective yet chemical-free solutions. Digging, mowing, grazing— every option required commitment. Multiple times, over multiple years. I set to work with a weed eater last fall.
Then, after the fits and starts of winter faded and after I finally mustered up enough gumption, my husband and I trailered home two meat goats. They settled in slowly, adjusting to an electric fence while also learning to trust us. After a time, we deployed them over plots of weeds, beginning with disrupted ground from our construction site, where bothersome forbs were trying to move in. I, with my weed eater, and the goats, with their fence, danced about the landscape.
“There’s already so much hate in the world. We don’t need to hate weeds.”
—Ivan Thrane, Healthy Meadows
And when September came, those lush, green, thorny invaders were still there, stealing sun and precious rain, competing with the grasses and flowers. I started to lose sleep again. Is mowing and grazing even going to work? What if they spread? Am I wasting my time?
I continued to research best practices. “Noxious Weeds.” “Management.” “Prevention.” “Mechanical and Chemical Controls.” Then, I stumbled upon an article that fondly referred to thistle as a “pioneer.” A plant that works hard and survives in harsh conditions. The author described how thistles and other weeds can help to heal ailing land: Broad leaves shade what otherwise might be bare soil, helping to cool it so that grasses might grow. Later, their taproots die and decompose, leaving aeration and nutrients that grasses need to flourish. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. The key, the author said, is to make conditions favorable for the desired plant species, so they can outcompete the so-called weeds.
I sat back in my chair, and suddenly heard the words of Ivan Thrane, owner of Healthy Meadows. Thrane uses goats to regeneratively steward landscapes, shepherding the animals across pastures with weeds (see “Goat Grazing” at ediblebozeman.com).
When I met him this summer during the inaugural Old Salt Festival in Helmville, Thrane said he wanted to reframe weeds as something good. “There’s already so much hate in the world. We don’t need to hate weeds.” Through grazing, weeds are transformed into sustenance for an animal that will go on to feed a family.
Work on the soil, management of grasses, it all takes time. And as time marches on, so do the seasons, with varying temperatures and precipitation season to season, year to year. I’m finding a calm in that rhythm. I’m getting more sleep. And next year, we might get more goats.
Jessianne Castle
Editor
