David Masumoto, Epitaph for a Peach

 “…I hope to renew the practice of cover cropping. I am part of a
generation of grape and tree fruit farmers who never planted
clover or beans or barley. I plant a vine and expect it to last a
lifetime; a peach tree should last decades. Annual crops feel odd
and peculiar—I don’t know how to prepare beds and am not
used to planting something underground that would be out of
sight for weeks. Many of my generation never learned how to
sow seeds.
    I planted my very first cover crop eight years ago when my
first child was born. I didn’t do it because cover crops would be
good for the soil and build up organic matter. And I didn’t do it
to provide a habitat for beneficial insects to overwinter and
make my land their spring home. I did it because my wife would
 be home with a new baby and
she was tired of seeing only the gray earth of winter outside our
kitchen window. I did it for her dreams of spring walks through
the soft clover with the baby in her arms, breathing in the fresh
scent of spring growth. I did it for reasons that seemed disconnec-
ted with farming at the time.
   ….I’ve thought of buying a better planter, something adapted to
vineyards instead of vegetable beds. But I’ve become attached to
my Planet Jrs. They remind me of a simple age, and I like the
name. I also enjoy controlling each individual planter. Unlike an
eight-foot-wide, single-hopper machine that uniformly plants an
entire field with the same seed mix and in the same pattern, these
individual units can be adjusted to create different patterns with
a variety of seed combinations. I play artist in my fields, painting
with a blend of clover and vetches with a splash of wildflowers.
Next to a vine I can plant dense cahaba white vetch that would
dominate in the early spring canvas with its white blooms but
may begin to wither with the first heat of summer. Along another
edge I might weave in some crimson clover with its deep red seed
heads or scatter strawberry and red clovers for variety. I would
add a combination bur clover and a blanket of yellow flowers
with the green hues created by different medics, low-growing
but sturdy plants that creep along the surface and replace the
 wilting vetches and crimson clovers in our valley heat.
     My fields have become a crazy quilt of cover crops, a wild blend
of patterns, some intended, some a product of nature’s whims.
The different plants grow to different heights and in different
patterns, creating a living appliqué. The casual passerby might
not notice my art. From the roadside, it often looks like irregular
growth, bald spots, breaks in uniformity. But the farmer walking
his fields can feel the changing landscape beneath his boots, he
can sense the temperature changes with the different densities
of growth and smell the pollen of blooming clover or vetch or
wildflowers. He appreciates the precarious character of nature.
As if running your fingers over a finely crafted quilt, you can feel
pattern upon pattern. Just as a quilter may stitch together emo-
tions with each piece of fabric, I weave the texture of life into my
farm.”
          — David Mas Masumoto, Epitaph for a Peach