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Drylands Management, Sunseed Stories

To read the first installment of A Drylands Tale by former Drylands Coordinator Agata, go here. 

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Near the ruined house across the Rio Aguas, where man no longer lives and the acequia (i.e., the aqueduct that brought water to the houses and gardens) has been destroyed, among the gypsum rocks there is a big, old, wise carob tree. Like every morning, on that spring day the bees from the hives of the large carob tree and the beautiful plants of Ephedra, Genista, Retama, Albaida and Ononis in its surroundings gathered under the tree’s canopy for the morning circle, and each of the older foraging bees offered the younger ones to join them in collecting nectar and pollen in different nearby lands.

That day sister bees Mel and Pam decided to propose something new to the others: cross the river to go see the flowers in the Arboretum, that strange garden full of unfamiliar trees planted by humans. None of the bees present had been there in a long time. The great carob tree that morning, listening to the conversation, awoke from its now almost perpetual state of semi-wakefulness. The old tree expressed its concern about Mel and Pam and possible unpredictable consequences of coming into contact with the foreign plants in the Arboretum. Some queen bees spoke out in support of the large carob tree. Mel and Pam, however, were extremely curious and courageous, and the words of the carob tree and the bees only served to increase their curiosity.

The two sister bees did not want to wait any longer, so they flew forward, soon encountering the thicket of reeds, tamarisk and white poplars of the river. Then, finally, among the lush vegetation, there was the water! The water that in spite of everything still flowed and still flows alive, fresh and clear in the gypsum valley, and gives life to an exuberant ecosystem all around. It nourishes and provides an ideal habitat for plants, algae and turtles, frogs and toads, snakes and small songbirds, all the insects, the goats and other small and large animals that quench their thirst there. 

Mel and Pam recalled the carob tree’s tale to all the animals that inhabited its roots, its wood, and its canopies: the river in days gone by carried much, much more water with it, so the oasis around it was even larger and more lush than what the bees saw today. They remembered his words, “All life existing here depends inextricably on the river; on this river that dangerously shrinks from year to year, but still, incomprehensibly and amazingly, survives.” 

Mel and Pam that morning enjoyed the coolness of the air and quenched their thirst by perching atop a tiny waterfall among the rocks.

Taking to the air again, the brave bees found themselves on the other bank in the blink of an eye. They could see the Arboretum perfectly now; it was just a little further up. The sister bees were enveloped in a wave of the most intense scent they had never smelled before. Their eyes sensed the strong attraction of the yellow flowers they saw from afar nestled in bright green foliage. Without realizing it, the bees flew up to the flowers, as if moved by an innate force. They could not believe their antennae: the Arboretum was a land full of trees they had never seen! And with even more wonder, the bees discovered that some of these trees carried an incredible amount of nectar! 

There were already hundreds of bees and other insects moving from flower to flower. A bee named Fil greeted them and told them that these were exotic legume trees planted by the men who had come from afar and settled in the village of “Los Molinos del Rio Aguas” in years past. Fil said this was the first year that the flower production was so abundant. There were still plenty of flowers available and Mel and Pam were welcome!

The two bees looked at each other wordlessly and in a state of ecstasy began to fill their little honeydew bags with nectar with their proboscises until, already in not even an hour there was no empty space left to fill!

Mel and Pam slowly made their way back, heavy with nectar as they were, and said to themselves, “Tomorrow we will bring all our hive mates and more! It will be a big party!” That evening Mel and Pam recounted the mind-blowing experience; their nectar loot made many other fellow foragers envious and even made some queen bees’ eyes sparkle. So the next morning when they proposed at the morning circle to return to the Arboretum many bees followed them. On the other hand, however, a good half of the community of bees and other pollinating insects were wary of the novelty and were worried to see so many bees abandoning the gathering in the small and fragrant shrubs, such as the thyme of the dry lands, to go to the unfamiliar plants of the Arboretum. These doubtful and wary insects therefore continued to forage in the surrounding arid lands.

That year honey production was so abundant that the bees no longer knew what to do with all the honey produced!

Soon in the following years, most of the pollinating insects in the lands around the village of Los Molinos “converted” to the nectar of the exotic trees of the Arboretum: the Acacia, the Prosopis, the Vachellia… From year to year, thanks to such insects, these trees dispersed huge quantities of seeds and dozens and dozens of seedlings emerged from the soil everywhere in and around the village in the arid lands.

The population of pollinators increased, but at the same time, these insects stopped pollinating the native shrubs in the drylands to concentrate their work on the miracle plants of the Arboretum. Thus while the exotic plants gained more and more land, the very numerous species of native plants gradually lost their ability to produce seeds and moreover sometimes found less water and nutrients available to them. So the native shrubs were more than once replaced by the new plants brought by humans.

Native plants have been adapting and evolving for centuries and centuries to these saline soils and subdesert climate, and their immense genetic diversity is an essential treasure for the health and balance of the river ecosystem and surrounding drylands, as it keeps populations of organisms that would otherwise become harmful in check. Many plants living around the river still ask many questions that remain to this day unanswered. 

During a hot August a couple of years after Mel and Pam’s discovery, an Oroval (Withania frutescens) born among the gypsum monoliths of the Nacimiento, where exotic plants have never yet arrived, thought aloud, “I wonder what is the potential capacity of these exotic trees to develop their population in these lands….” So he asked his neighbor, a very large Lentisco tree (Pistacia Lentiscus), “Do you think my friend that the riverbed will ever be occupied by these trees with the thick, thorny foliage that all the insects are talking about?” The thoughtful Lentisco did not find an answer and rather asked in turn “and even if they do spread, can these plants really harm the balance of the ecosystem? Can they reduce the existing biodiversity?” Most importantly, he wondered, “What would be the long-term consequences for the living organisms in these lands?” A small endemic shrub of Jarilla de Sorbas (Helianthemum alypoides), interested and alarmed by the conversation, intervened with a further question, “Besides, is the effect of these trees on the water cycle and soil erosion control really beneficial? In addition to the direct and beneficial effect on the water cycle of their roots and foliage, it must be considered that if they cause damage to the native plants this could seriously jeopardize the stability of the soils of this valley and the surrounding ones!!!” To conclude, an old snake passing by proclaimed hissing, “Tsssssss… What are you plants worrying about! Tsssssss… You can’t see the river from here, but I can! Tsssssss… Its disappearance seems more and more imminent to me! Now that should terrify you! Tsssssssss…”

That torrid August, the queen bees, under advice from the wise carob tree, called for a plenary meeting of all pollinating insects. The goal was to decide definitively and by consensus whether nectar from exotic plants was worth the (unquantifiable) risk of destroying the balance of the ecosystem. But the plenary did not work and became an endless debate. Positions are to this day conflicting: some insects say the benefits in the short term are more concrete than the unknown risks in the long term. In addition, some wasps ask, “But who are we to decide or attempt to control the fate of this community of living things? It’s not like it’s just us pollinating insects! Besides, it’s not like we are human beings!” The butterflies support the wasps and say, “We will deal with the problem when it manifests itself.” 

Other insects on the contrary want to stop pollinating exotic trees. They repeat, “Better to prevent now than to be in an ecological disaster later! By the time the problem is visible it will be too late and we won’t be able to do anything about it!”

In short, to date no one knows what the fate of this wonderful ecosystem will be. What will happen to the water? And what will be the fate of its so biodiverse community of living organisms?


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[ITA]

Secondo racconto delle terre di macchia mediterranea e delle terre gestite dall’uomo in Sunseed 

 Vicino alla casa diroccata al di là del Rio Aguas, dove ormai l’uomo non vive più e l’acequia (cioè l’acquedotto che portava l’acqua alle case e agli orti) è andata distrutta, tra le rocce di gesso c’è un grande, vecchio e sapiente carrubo. Come tutte le mattine, anche quel giorno di primavera le api degli alveari del grande carrubo e delle belle piante di Ephedra, Genista, Retama, Albaida e Ononis nei suoi dintorni si riunirono sotto le fronde dell’albero per il cerchio del mattino e ognuna delle api bottinatrici più anziane offrì alle altre più giovani di unirsi a loro per raccogliere nettare e polline in diverse terre vicine.

Quel giorno le api sorelle Mel e Pam decisero di proporre qualcosa di nuovo alle altre: oltrepassare il fiume per andare a vedere i fiori dell’Arboretum, quello strano giardino pieno di alberi sconosciuti piantati dagli umani. Nessuna delle api presenti era stata lì da tempo immemore. Il grande carrubo quella mattina ascoltando la conversazione si svegliò dal suo stato, ormai quasi perenne, di semi veglia. Il vecchio albero, manifestò la sua preoccupazione per Mel e Pam e per possibili conseguenze imprevedibili dell’entrare in contatto con le piante estranee dell’Arboretum. Alcune api regine si pronunciarono a supporto del grande carrubo. Mel e Pam però erano estremamente curiose e coraggiose e le parole del carrubo e delle api solo servirono ad aumentare la loro curiosità.

Le due api sorelle non avevano più voglia di aspettare, dunque si inoltrano in volo, incontrando ben presto la selva di canne, tamerici e pioppi bianchi del fiume. Poi, finalmente, tra la rigogliosa vegetazione, ecco l’acqua! L’acqua che nonostante tutto scorreva ancora e tuttora scorre viva, fresca e trasparente nella valle gessosa, e che dà vita ad un ecosistema esuberante tutto attorno. Essa nutre e fornisce un habitat ideale per le  piante, le alghe e le tartarughe, le rane e i rospi, i serpenti e i piccoli uccelli canterini, tutti gli insetti, le capre e gli altri piccoli e grandi animali che vi si dissetano.

Mel e Pam ricordarono il racconto dell’anziano carrubo a tutti gli animali che abitavano le sue radici, il suo legno e le sue chiome: il fiume nei tempi passati portava molta, molta più acqua con sé, perciò l’oasi attorno ad esso era ancora più grande e rigogliosa di quella che le api vedevano oggi. Ricordavano le sue parole: “Tutta la vita qui esistente dipende imprescindibilmente dal fiume; da questo fiume che pericolosamente si rimpicciolisce di anno in anno, ma che ancora, incomprensibilmente e stupefacentemente, sopravvive”.

Mel e Pam quella mattina godettero della frescura dell’aria e si dissetarono posandosi in cima ad una piccolissima cascata d’acqua tra le rocce.

Rimettendosi in volo le api coraggiose si ritrovarono sull’altra sponda in un batter d’occhio. Adesso lo vedevano perfettamente l’Arboretum, era giusto poco più su. Le api sorelle vennero avvolte da un’ondata di profumo intensissimo e mai sentito prima. I loro occhi percepivano l’attrazione forte dei fiori gialli che vedevano da lontano immersi in un fogliame verde vivo. Senza rendersene conto le api volarono sino ai fiori, come mosse da una forza innata. Non potevano credere alle loro antenne: l’Arboretum era una terra piena di alberi che non avevano mai visto! E con ancora più meraviglia le api scoprirono che alcuni di questi alberi portavano una quantità di nettare incredibile!

C’erano già centinaia di api e altri insetti che si muovevano di fiore in fiore. Un’ape di nome Fil le accolse e disse loro che si trattava di alberi esotici di leguminose, piantati dagli uomini arrivati da lontano che si erano installati nel villaggio di “Los Molinos del Rio Aguas” negli anni passati. Fil disse che questo era il primo anno che la produzione di fiori era così abbondante. C’erano ancora tantissimi fiori a disposizione e Mel e Pam erano le benvenute! Le due api si guardarono senza parole ed in uno stato di estasi iniziarono a riempire di nettare le loro piccole borse melarie con le loro proboscidi, fino a che, già in neanche un’ora non c’era più alcuno spazio vuoto da riempire!

Mel e Pam fecero lentamente ritorno, pesanti di nettare com’erano, e si dissero “domani porteremo tutte le nostre compagne di alveare e non solo! Sarà una grande festa!”. Quella sera Mel e Pam raccontarono l’esperienza strabiliante, il loro bottino di nettare fece invidia a molte altre compagne bottinatrici e fece brillare gli occhi anche ad alcune api regine. Così la mattina successiva quando al cerchio del mattino proposero di tornare all’Arboretum molte api le seguirono. D’altra parte, tuttavia, una buona metà della comunità delle api ed altri insetti impollinatori era diffidente davanti alla novità e si preoccupò nel vedere tante api abbandonare la raccolta negli arbusti piccoli e profumati, come il timo delle terre aride, per andare verso le piante sconosciute dell’Arboretum. Questi insetti dubbiosi e diffidenti dunque continuarono a bottinare nelle terre aride circostanti.

Quell’anno la produzione di miele fu talmente abbondante che le api non seppero più che fare di tutto il miele prodotto! Ben presto negli anni successivi gran parte degli insetti impollinatori delle terre attorno al villaggio di Los Molinos si “convertirono” al nettare degli alberi esotici dell’Arboretum: le Acacia, i Prosopis, le Vachellia… Di anno in anno, grazie a tali insetti, questi alberi dispersero grandissime quantità di semi e decine e decine di piantine emersero dal suolo ovunque nel villaggio e attorno, nelle terre aride.

La popolazione di impollinatori aumentò, ma allo stesso tempo, questi insetti smisero di impollinare gli arbusti nativi delle terre aride per concentrare il proprio lavoro sulle piante miracolose dell’Arboretum. Così mentre le piante esotiche guadagnavano sempre più terra, le numerosissime specie di piante native perdevano progressivamente la loro capacità di produrre semi e perdipiù a volte trovavano meno acqua e nutrienti a loro disposizione. Dunque gli arbusti nativi furono più volte sostituiti dalle nuove piante portate dagli esseri umani. 

Le piante native si sono evolute ed adattate per secoli e secoli a questi suoli salini e a questo clima subdesertico, e la loro immensa diversità genetica è un tesoro essenziale per la salute e l’equilibrio dell’ecosistema del fiume e delle terre aride circostanti, poiché tiene sotto controllo le popolazioni di organismi che altrimenti diventerebbero nocivi. Molte piante che vivono attorno al fiume si fanno ancora oggi tante domande che restano senza risposta. Durante un caldo Agosto di un paio di anni dopo la scoperta di Mel e Pam, un Oroval (Withania frutescens) nato tra i monoliti di gesso del Nacimiento, dove le piante esotiche non sono ancora mai arrivate, pensava ad alta voce: “Chissà qual è la capacità potenziale di questi alberi esotici di sviluppare la loro popolazione in queste terre…”. Quindi chiese al suo vicino, un grandissimo Lentisco (Pistacia lentiscus) “credi amico mio che il letto del fiume verrà mai occupato da questi alberi dalle chiome folte e spinose di cui tutti gli insetti parlano?”. Il Lentisco pensoso non trovò una risposta e anzi chiese a sua volta “e anche se si diffondessero, possono queste piante davvero danneggiare l’equilibrio dell’ecosistema? Possono ridurre la biodiversità esistente?” E soprattutto il lentisco si chiese “Quali sarebbero le conseguenze nel lungo termine per gli organismi viventi di queste terre?”. Un piccolo arbusto endemico di Jarilla de Sorbas (Helianthemum alypoides), interessato e allarmato dalla conversazione, intervenne con una ulteriore domanda: “E poi l’effetto di questi alberi sul ciclo dell’acqua e sul controllo dell’erosione del suolo è davvero positivo? Oltre all’effetto diretto e vantaggioso per il ciclo dell’acqua delle loro radici e chiome, bisogna considerare che se essi comporteranno danni alle piante native ciò potrebbe mettere seriamente a rischio la stabilità dei terreni di questa valle e di quelle circostanti!!”. Per finire un vecchio serpente che passava di là proferì sibilando: “Tsssssss… Ma di che vi preoccupate voi piante! Tsssssss… Voi non potete vedere il fiume da qui, ma io sì! Tsssssss… La sua scomparsa mi sembra sempre più imminente! Questo sì che dovrebbe terrorizzarvi! Tsssssssssssss…” 

Quell’agosto torrido le api regine, sotto consiglio del saggio carrubo, convocarono una riunione plenaria di tutti gli insetti impollinatori. L’obiettivo era decidere in modo definitivo e consensuale se il nettare delle piante esotiche valeva il rischio (non quantificabile) di distruggere l’equilibrio dell’ecosistema. Ma la plenaria non funzionò e diventò un’infinita discussione. Le posizioni sono tutt’ora contrastanti: alcuni insetti dicono che i vantaggi nel breve termine sono più concreti dei rischi sconosciuti nel lungo termine. Inoltre alcune vespe si chiedono: “Ma chi siamo noi per decidere o tentare di controllare il destino di questa comunità di esseri viventi? Non ci siamo mica solo noi insetti impollinatori! E poi noi non siamo mica come gli esseri umani!” Le farfalle, sostengono le vespe ed affermano: “Affronteremo il problema quando questo si manifesterà”. Altri insetti al contrario vogliono smettere di impollinare gli alberi esotici. Questi ripetono: “Meglio prevenire ora, che trovarsi in un disastro ecologico dopo! Quando il problema sarà visibile sarà troppo tardi e non potremo più fare niente per risolverlo!”

Insomma, ad oggi nessuno sa quale sarà il destino di questo meraviglioso ecosistema. Che ne sarà dell’acqua? E che ne sarà della sua così biodiversa comunità di organismi viventi? 

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Sunseed Stories, Volunteer Stories
Sign welcoming new arrivals.

Arriving at Sunseed is an amazing experience filled with excitement at the opportunities that the project offers. The landscape is breath taking in its dryness but the valley of Rio Aguas is a green oasis. People are friendly and welcoming and there is so much going on and so much to see and learn.
Arrival can also be a little overwhelming. The other people seem to know exactly how everything works, and often they are already close friends, with a history of their time at Sunseed together. There is a lot to take in, most of it is incredibly positive and exciting, but it’s also normal to feel unsure or uncomfortable for a little while. There are things that will take more time to get used to, maybe it’s the compost loo, or sharing space with many other people, or the work hours and intensity.

Due to the nature of the project there is a continuous stream of people arriving, this means that there are hundreds of people who share this experience. We’ve all been in the same position of arriving at Sunseed, we all know how great it is and we have all had to adjust to the Sunseed way of life, we all know how intense Sunseed can be, especially in the beginning.

The street through Los Molinos Del Rio Aguas to Sunseed Desert Technology

First weeks at Sunseed will vary and each experience is unique. For instance, Peter, our Communications Coordinator, helped to collect drinking water before he had even arrived at Sunseed. After the bus ride from Almeria to Sorbas, he was picked up on the way to collect water. An extra drive and then filling the huge bottles with fresh water at the beautiful spring in a nearby village, and eventually carrying them from the carpark down Los Molinos main street to Sunseed, is a pretty unique way to arrive. Peter says that he got to know the people who had picked him up, he’d had a chance to ask them all of his questions about Sunseed while they filled the bottles and he felt that spending one on one time with them helped him feel like he was a part of the community. As did the Wednesday general tour of the property, which gave him an overview of the layout and departments.

Leon, Sustainable Living and Tech Team Assistant, came for a week in 2018. It was an incredibly busy week, he was working in all of the departments and got involved in workshops and skill exchanges, as well as helping out on some bigger projects, like installing a new water system and working up in the Drylands. He left with a knowledge of the many different ways that one can get a blister, including burning bare feet on hot desert roads. However, he came back this year, committed to be here for a longer time. He says that taking part in a sharing circle a few days into his stay helped him feel more comfortable and he really connected with the people in the circle with him.

For others the change of pace can be really confusing. Working at Sunseed is not like working in a city job. While the work can be really physical and exciting, the pace might seem much slower than a different job. As Sylvia, Education and Gardens Assistant, says that it can take a bit of getting used to. She also found all of the information that is available at Sunseed was sometimes hard to process, but exploring the land and swimming in the poza helped her feel at home in the project.  She now splits her time comfortably between the gardens and the office.

There are things that all of the arrivals will experience during their first week at Sunseed. Things like the welcome tour, where you will be shown the main parts of Sunseed. There are practical things, like getting to know the daily schedule, and putting yourself into the rota (preferably with someone who knows what they are doing and can help you). But there are also those illusive elements that make you feel at home, like meeting people that you connect with, or having something to contribute in the morning circle, or getting to know the land and the poza. Sunseed is an amazing place to arrive and though it might be overwhelming at first there are so many things that make the experience work for everyone.

The beautiful Poza.

Every experience of arrival at Sunseed is different with people finding some parts challenging, and others easier. However, there is a common thread that connects all arrivals and all people living at Sunseed; the community we are building, one person at a time. It is the connections made to the people who are already here when we arrive and those that arrive after us. It is working together for a common goal, it is in the land and learning to live closer to it. The threads that connect all experiences of Sunseed also spread out while we are here when we meet with local people and once we leave the project, to all the people we connect with.

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