Wildlife Asset

written by

Joel Salatin

posted on

June 5, 2024

This morning I had to go up the mountain to check on a water line and spring.  After a nice thunderstorm last night, the early morning mist rose up from the valleys as I dodged heavy-droplet leaves hanging out into the gravel road.

As the 4-wheeler and I rounded a bend, I braked quickly for a doe nursing her newborn fawn.  We stared at each other momentarily, not more than 20 feet apart.  The fawn suddenly vanished—I couldn’t see it run—and the doe stayed there.  We stared at each other for a bit and then I had to be on my way.

As I started to go, the doe jumped off the road but didn’t go far.  As I eased the 4-wheeler forward, my eye caught the fawn, hunkered flat against the ground under a fern and mountain laurel bush on the edge of the road.  Probably less than 24 hours old, the fawn had not yet learned to run from danger, but rather tried to hide.

It didn’t move when I walked to it.  Leaning over and gently cooing to it, I stroked the soft fawn like a kitten, assuring it I was a friend.  It didn’t move a muscle.  I didn’t pick it up or handle it.  It could have run off, but didn’t.  It just stayed there, pressed tightly against the ground, with mama nearby.  I caressed it for another minute, relishing the moment’s magic.  Then I eased away.

I had a spring and water line to check on, but as I turned to remount the 4-wheeler and continue on my errand, tears welled up in my eyes.  The freshly washed forest, rising mist, nursing mother and newborn fawn, and then the soft connection, all in stillness and mutual reverence.  How special is that?

As I fought back tears of gratitude for being able to enjoy magical experiential moments like this, I couldn’t help but think about the agri-industrial complex narrative vomiting out of public relations firms denigrating wildlife as an egregious liability.  A minute prior to encountering the nursing doe and fawn, I had enjoyed a wild turkey hen prancing through one of our pig pastures.  And yes, I’ve picked up newly hatched wild turkey poults too, while mother hen cavorts and clucks a few feet away. More magic moments.

Last week when I drove down the farm lane and crossed the bridge over Middle River (yes, it looks like a creek, but it’s the beginning of Middle River), I noticed a mother duck with six freshly hatched ducklings paddling up the river.  I watched them disappear under the bridge.  I wonder where they were headed.

Is all this wildlife really as terrible as the conventional mainline farm industry suggests?  Deer bring cow diseases.  Waterfowl bring bird flu.  The industry makes it sound like if we’re going to survive, we must eradicate wildlife.  That attitude is a natural development when you prop up life with artificial means (think unnatural animal habitations, antibiotics, vaccines, etc.). It seems very anti-life.

Starting with Justis von Liebig’s 1837 allegation that all life is simply a re-arrangement of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium and continuing to the herbicide, pesticide, grubicide developments post WWII, industrial food’s assault on life is unspeakably profound.  If an animal gets sick, it must be pharmaceutically disadvantaged, not immune-compromised.

The key to good food is ship-ability and shelf life.  Cardboard tomatoes and cheese that won’t mold—oh, don’t forget shelf-stable ultra-pasteurized organic milk—is the Holy Grail of modern American industrial food.  The new frontier of lab-cultured meat-like substances and 3-D printed proteins is the next iteration in this entire anti-life progression.

Here at Polyface, we believe any farm and food system that demonizes wildlife is fundamentally anti-life and therefore anti-nutrition, anti-wellness, and anti-health.  To be sure, that doesn’t mean we let errant and rogue carnivorous predators abscond with our pastured chickens.  Or let mice and rats run rampant through the house.

But it means we have a deep and abiding respect for the majesty, complexity, and value of nature and wildlife.  If we have an animal sickness, it’s not because of wildlife; it’s because we mismanaged something and compromised the immune system.  Any livestock farmer eventually neglects something at an inopportune time and has to learn the hard way that social structure, hygiene, sanitation, genetic selection, rations and other things affect the habitat for health.

The reason I can enjoy these routine magical encounters with wildlife is because we believe the foundation of good farming—and good food—is a vibrantly balanced and functioning ecology.  That starts with the native critters.  If we can’t add livestock without destroying the native life, shame on us.  And shame on the industry for blaming wildlife for diseases.  The wildlife figured out long ago how to live without chemicals, vaccines, and pharmaceuticals.

Perhaps it would behoove all farmers to look at the resilient wildlife for instruction in our domestic livestock production.  Informed by the natural, cows, pigs and chickens can enjoy a healthy existence without anti-life inputs.  When you patronize Polyface, you say to the world “life matters to me, even the bumblebee and fawn.”  That’s a great life lesson for our kiddos.  Together, as farmer and patron, we can promote life, both wild and domestic.  

More from the blog

Why Good Food Costs More - and Why It Matters

Many people wonder why foods grown with care for the land, animals, and farmers often cost more than the industrial options that line grocery store shelves. It’s an important and honest question, and it deserves a thoughtful answer. Let’s start with the basics: food affects everything. Our health, our communities, and the land that sustains us are all tied to how food is produced.  Unfortunately, problems begin when the cheapest foods tend to be the most processed, the most subsidized, and the most aggressively marketed. It's easy to feel boxed into these choices, especially when you look at the price tag. But sometimes, and for lots of folks, it's easy to forget that those cheap foods come with a much higher price tag later on, whether it's just how we feel as processed foods affect our bodies, or the bills that stack up after doctor's visits. I know that after I eat ultra-processed foods (often full of unspecified additives, dyes, stabilizing ingredients, etc.), I don't feel great.  I'm so thankful to say that I grew up eating mostly grass-fed beef. As a child, I remember wondering why "grocery store" beef was so different and "yucky". (I just thought only my grandpa could raise good beef.) As I've spent the last decade and a half eating mostly pastured chicken and pork, too, I can tell a definite difference when I do eat less "expensive", commercially raised foods. My grandpa definitely raised good beef, but I've realized now that it was his methods that made all the difference.  Sustainably raised, grass-fed, pastured meat is meat that is being raised as it was intended to be, and therefore, it can do for our bodies what it was intended to do: nourish, fill, and bless. When I make better choices with my meals, I'm less tired, experience fewer mood swings, don't get hungry again as soon, experience less brain fog, and have fewer stomach and digestive issues. I've realized that the true price of food is how it affects my body and makes me feel. I can choose foods that come with a 'price tag,' and will help me to feel my best, or I can choose food with a hidden cost later on, as it takes a toll on my body.At Polyface, we have a simple belief: when animals live the way they’re designed to live, they, the land, and the people who eat from it thrive. Compared to conventional, industrially raised meat, regeneratively raised, grass-fed meat offers: Healthier fat profiles — Cattle and poultry raised on diverse pastures often contain more omega-3s and fewer inflammatory omega-6 fats than animals fed grain in confinement. Higher micronutrient density — Pasture-raised meats and eggs contain more vitamins A, D, and E, along with minerals like iron and selenium—thanks to clean sunlight, fresh grasses, and good exercise. Cleaner food with fewer inputs — Animals raised on pasture don’t require routine antibiotics, growth promotants, or chemical inputs that are standard in confinement systems. Food that nourishes more with less — Nutrient-dense food tends to be more satisfying, meaning people often feel full sooner and stay full longer. These aren’t abstract ideals. They’re real, biological outcomes from raising animals on living landscapes rather than in industrial warehouses. At Polyface, we consciously invest in people and animals—not gadgets, not chemicals, not complex machinery that distances the farmer from the land. Instead of giant tractors, Polyface invests in skilled team members who know how to read the land, interpret animal behavior, and respond with nuance and care. Human eyes, human hands, and human intuition cannot be replaced by equipment if the goal is health and regeneration. Instead of confinement buildings that require ventilation systems, antibiotics, and elaborate waste-handling equipment, Polyface invests in animals raised outdoors in fresh air and sunshine, rotated across pasture so they can express their natural design (while fertilizing the soil). Instead of relying on chemical crutches, Polyface invests in biological solutions like rest periods for grass, multi-species grazing, composting systems, and portable shelters. These things help us follow natural patterns rather than fight them. This kind of farming is people-intensive. It’s observation-intensive. It’s relationship-intensive. It's a very different type of farming than what is most often seen or illustrated. So, why does this matter?  You don’t have to raise chickens or move cattle across pastures to be part of this work. Honest, regenerative farming is a partnership between the growers and the eaters. Every time you choose food raised with care and transparency, you cast a vote for the kind of world you want: A world where animals live in a way that honors their design. A world where farmers can make a living without compromising their values. A world where the land becomes healthier, more fertile, and more resilient each year. A world where food strengthens bodies instead of breaking them down. When you choose Polyface, you become part of this regenerative story. You help restore soils, revive rural communities, and support a type of agriculture that heals instead of harms.  You help build a food system rooted in transparency, nutrition, stewardship, and hope. I've heard it said that the path forward begins with honest conversation and mutual learning. The same holds true for moving toward better food and better farming. Thank you for asking hard questions and caring enough to look deeper. We want to stay accountable, curious, and committed to improving what we do. Whenever you’re able, the Salatins welcome you to the farm so you can see these principles in action for yourself. I always tell people that there’s nothing quite like walking the pastures, watching the animals, and witnessing regeneration firsthand. Together as farmers, families, and communities, we can cultivate a future where food nourishes everything it touches: the land beneath our feet, the animals in our care, and the people around our tables. I like the sound of that future, don't you? Hannah

All Related

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year--that's a lot of stuff going on kind of lumped together.  Which brings me to my thought this month:  it's all related. Perhaps the signature difference between Polyface and current mainline food thinking is integration versus segregation.  I could use numerous words to describe this basic concept, like parts versus wholes, but I think these two are as good as any. Conventional industrial food systems break things apart.   We see it on farms that grow only one or two things, without regard for the greater inter-relatedness of ecology, all the way up to packaged and processed food.  Modern processed foods don't use whole ingredients; they use pieces of things.  They strip out the germ of the wheat, for example. They refine things to the point that the food bears no resemblance to its natural state.  Then they put all these pieces together and call it food.  But these pieces came from widely divergent places, and the beautiful unprocessed original no longer exists. When Dad and I were brainstorming what to call this farm venture that would eventually become Polyface, Dad's assumption was that we'd call it Salatin Inc.--you know, like Ford Motor Company or Chrysler (named for Walter P. Chrysler, the founder). I was adamant that it NOT be our family name for two reasons.   First, I suggested there may be a day when a Salatin isn't at the helm.  Secondly, I wanted the name to recognize integrated thinking. I came up with the name "Interface Inc." to recognize the three great environments:  water, land, and forest.   For 20 years, during what I call our experimental homesteading days, we'd been planting trees, fencing out riparian zones, fencing out the forest to protect it from cows, and developing a landscape plan with these various zones in mind.  The State Corporation Commission rejected the name because, unbeknownst to us, Virginia already had an "Interface Inc."  It was a labor arbitration company to work out disagreements between labor and management. I was milking the cow when Dad told me the bad news, and I spontaneously blurted:  "If we can't be Interface, let's be Polyface--the farm of many faces."  Dad laughed, but we both liked the idea, and it stuck and was approved. The point here is that from the outset, all our thinking was about how to leverage the various assets of the diversified ecosystem and then harness the distinctives of the various animals.   As a result, we looked at symbiotic natural patterns and have done our best to duplicate them.  The Eggmobile follows the cows so the chickens can scratch through cow pies.  We use pigs to aerate compost.  Our small flock of sheep is like a glorified weed eater, cleaning up fence lines and around farm buildings to reduce mowing. The animals move through the pastures, paddock to paddock; they don't stay in the same place. Illustrative of "conventional-think", Virginia Tech veterinary professors who judged my son Daniel's 4-H talk titled "Symbiosis and Synergy in the Racken (Rabbit-Chicken) House" at the state contest nearly 30 years ago couldn't restrain their skepticism.  "Aren't you concerned about diseases with two species that close to each other?" I was never so proud.  He was about 15 and, without batting an eye, looked those professors in the eye and replied:  "We've learned that most pathogens don't cross-speciate."   Folks, I had not prepped him for that question.  When he responded like that, those three professors slapped their legs and laughed at the audacious notion.  They had no further comments and immediately tried to recruit him to enroll at Virginia Tech and major in Veterinary Science. Instead, he stayed with me on the farm and scaled up these simple integrated relationships to the thousands of animals we have now--with virtually no vet bills.  Meanwhile, conventional experts wring their hands over bird flu, screw worm, African swine fever, blackleg, and a host of maladies that attack places where an integrated approach toward biology is severely lacking. Pediatrician Dr. Sharon Goldfield, director of population health for the Murdoch Children's Research Institute, wrote a fascinating op-ed in the Wall Street Journal last week titled "Baby Food and Youth Obesity."  She slammed "packaged baby and toddler foods" because they fail even rudimentary nutrition standards. Their surveys indicated that "80 percent of children are eating packaged toddler foods, many of which are ultra-processed, from an early age, with 43 percent of them eating these foods at least five days a week." Kids are eating out of boxes and slurping from concoctions created by a segregated mentality from field to stomach.  This segregated thinking even permeates parental decision making, divorcing overall health from food and assuming whatever happens, pharmaceuticals can fix it. At Polyface, everything we do assumes that everything we do affects something else we do.  It's that simple.   Both land health and people health occur when we realize everything relates to everything.  You can't just eat well and not exercise.  You can't dismiss the value of sunlight on your skin; especially early morning sunlight.  Hydration.  Sleep.  Stress.  Forgiveness.  Gratitude.  It's all part of us. As we celebrate all these holiday times and imagine the relatedness of Thanksgiving with the Christmas story with the eagerness of a new year, imagine all the things going on in your life and how they work together.  Or how if you pull them apart, things fray. Be assured that here at Polyface we're trying to integrate ecology, people, and economy in an overall symbiotic whole to deliver you the best food at a reasonable price.   And we thank you for helping us build an integrated whole that respects earthworms all the way to our dinner plate and microbiome.  We're not feeding you earthworms, but be assured they play an ongoing role in every bite you enjoy from Polyface.  Thank you. Joel