SENSE of Compost
Observation is the first step in assessing the health and safety of all those that reside on our farm.
SIGHT
My experienced eyes caught sight of the bucklings, cloaked in burly winter coats, playfully ‘bucking around’ in their fenced yard. It isn’t unusual to see them outside during the day, though it was surprising that they were outside during the start of a winter storm; I made a mental note. Chickens and our two turkeys basked in the fleeting sun shining through the doorway to the pole barn. The goat pen doors were secured, the does lounging lazily and chewing their cud. Everything looked as it should, at least at first glance…
SOUND
A loud squabble among the chickens, presumably a few hens vying for some prime morsel of food or the best spot on the roost, muffled the crunch of snow and ice beneath my feet as I entered the pole barn. The deep alto bleat, “Maaa-aaa” from Polka, one of our Oberhasli goats directed a greeting to me. Each of our goats has a unique ‘voice.’
“Polka! What are you chattering about today?” I call out, expectantly waiting for her to respond.
“Maaa-aaa, MA!!” she answered! I made a mental note to look at her more closely; it’s likely she was coming into heat and ready to breed with our buck. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped me; it was calm before the snow storm.
SMELL
As I hoisted my heavily booted legs into the bucklings’ house, the sweet smell of decaying hay and straw seeped through my nasal passages. While I assessed the hay feeders and glanced at the water bucket, my nose alerted me to a sharp scent characterized by earthy undertones overlain with ammonia. Though not entirely unpleasant, I noticed that the bucklings would not come into the house unless forcibly persuaded. Something wasn’t quite right.
TOUCH
While in the buckling house, I knelt down for a moment to ponder the information transmitted by my senses. In short order, I felt warmth sliding along my shin and moving upward through my knee. I removed my glove and shoved my hand into the bedding of tight packed straw, urine and goat berries. Heat, radiant and moist, enveloped my hand. It took a moment to realize what was going on. The strength and magic of creating compost was happening immediately below me! It was fascinating! And HOT! My hand did not burn, but it was considerably warmer than my own core temperature.
We use a management technique called ‘deep littering’ in our chicken and goat pens through the winter. As bedding gets damp or soiled, we add fresh layers of straw to keep pens dry and relatively clean. As layers pile up, alternating between clean straw or hay and animal waste, the natural process of decay, or compost action, kicks in. The heat produced from the chemical reactions of decomposition actually helps to keep the animals warm through the winter months. Bedding + animal waste (urine or poop) = compost = heat = MAGIC!
However, there is a fine line between being nice and toasty and too much moisture produced, which can cause sickness…pneumonia or other respiratory illnesses. Without going into too much detail, we decided that while the bedding in the buckling pen was producing wonderful warmth, it was also emitting too much moisture and ammonia to be safe for our bucklings. Their house needed to be cleaned, immediately!
Standing knee-high in a thick mat of bedding, it was not an easy task. With gale winds blowing and snow piling in, my ‘hard-core other half’ and I alternated shifts between watching the farm-kiddos inside and cleaning out the buckling house during a snow storm. Steam billowed from the bedding as we moved it through the door, and falling snow melted on impact. Once cleared and a new layer of straw bedding spread down, the bucklings enthusiastically reentered the building.
AROUND THE FARM: