A Wonderful Life

Michael Patterson lives a life reserved for the young yet coveted by the old. He’s shed anything that requires a monthly payment or a full tank of gas and has replaced it with a choice to live simply—very simply. At twenty-one, he can tell you about green living, plant life cycles, and a recipe for great compost. His greatest treasures at the moment are a book on edible plants in North America and a llama wool sweater handknit by Native Americans.

Those of us who find pleasure in farming, learning about farming, or perhaps fantasize about it as a departure from our routine will like Michael’s story. It reminds us of why youth is reserved for the young. He’s doesn’t worry about where his next meal will come from as much as how it was grown.

His segue from a traditional suburban upbringing to living a nomad’s life in sustainable environments is a short story, one that I find both endearing and fascinating. His parents? Not so much at first.

So Michael and I met one Sunday afternoon over herbal tea and I asked him how he arrived at this place.

Michael, is the middle child of three, grew up with two parents, in a typical residential development. He proved to be a soccer player of note, enjoyed private schooling, is smart, creative, and a little trouble on the side. He had finished his first year of college studies in art and was into the second—not unhappy, but not completely jazzed about the path he was on.

Somewhere between one class and another, in the middle of the concrete campus in downtown Cleveland where the air was filled with noisy construction equipment, traffic and the usual city noise, Michael decided that this was not where he was most at home. At least for now.

So he decided to take a break, which some tuition-paying parents might bemoan as “dropping out.” The hair got longer as did the beard. He began to explore his options for a lifestyle that was rich, yet unencumbered. Michael headed west, not packing a huge plan for how he would live but keeping an open mind and a see-what-happens attitude.

During that first year, Michael made ends meet by teaching snowboarding in Oregon, split with the Ohio girlfriend who followed him across the country, and hooked up with WWOOF, World Wide Opportunities On Organic Farms.

WWOOF is an international network of organic or ecologically sound farms scattered throughout the world that welcome volunteers onto their fields and into their barns. They are wonderful lures for people who want to get closer to the land, get their hands dirty, and experience in a very personal way the timeline nature assigns food production.

Since the 1970s WWOOF has played matchmaker between organic farms and volunteers. Basically it works like this: Volunteers use the WWOOF network to find small organic farms throughout the US and more than 30 countries around the world, from Australia to India and Ireland to Uganda. The farms and volunteers decide if they are a good match in work ethic, personality, and expectations of the experience. The host will provide bed and board in exchange for fieldwork and a priceless, seasonal experience. Volunteers can work the harvest season in Indiana (May through October) and then explore opportunities in other parts of the world where the growing season is gearing up, taking shape, or in full swing.

I thumbed through the WWOOF member book and noticed that in general, most of the farms are right around five acres, a few jump out at thirteen acres, and others at two acres but in general they are all looking for volunteer help in exchange for the simple living basics.

Michael’s first volunteer experience was at Elk Creek Gardens in Southern Oregon, an organic farm of just a few acres that promised “a full view of issues concerning the Pacific Northwest.” In addition to the basics, they promised “a break from the urban or college pace.” Bingo.

Among the problems that consumed Michael’s life this past growing season was how to keep open range cattle from trampling and consuming field crops and polluting the nearby streams fed by the Cascade Mountains. It appears that in a handful of counties around Oregon, bovine can legally run at large and it’s up to the property owner to fence them out.

Conversely the joys that filled Michael’s life included what he calls the meditative aspects of farming: preparing the fields and beds, watching seeds sprout, nurturing the plants, harvesting and taking it to market, and putting the beds to sleep which concluded Michael’s Oregon experience last November.

This month, Michael begins another volunteer stretch at an organic farm in Kauai, Hawaii, the “royal coconut coast.” He'll harvest coconuts, avocados, bananas, breadfruit, lychees, and dozens of other native fruits. Mosquitos bites (75 at last count) and sweeping numerous species of spiders out of his tent on a regular basis are among the new set of problems in this farming experience. Eating exotically will not be among his concerns.

The other night, I was gently chiding my high school senior to put some serious thought into college. I think I actually said, “You can’t just do nothing.” He came back at me with, “Well, you think what Michael Patterson is doing is really cool.”

He’s right—and he’s wrong. It is cool but then I don’t think he’s doing nothing.