The thick, sweet perfume of crabapple blossoms hangs in the air as John Nyboer strides purposefully across his front lawn in tall, mud-crusted boots, past the frothy pink apple tree, before turning and heading onto a wooded trail.
As he walks, he points out invasive plants in need of removal — a job nowhere near the top of his to-do list. This area hasn’t had the attention it deserves, Nyboer acknowledges as he steps carefully along a path that zigzags its way deep into a forested ravine. Although he’s talked with the folks at LEPS (Langley Environmental Protection Society) about getting help to remove the unwanted foliage, that will have to wait until more pressing demands are met — though, when that will be is anyone’s guess, he shrugs.
Climbing out of the gully along a different route, Nyboer arrives at the back of the house he shares with his wife, Cynthia, and their daughter’s family of four.
A quick glance around reveals a large, well-tended vegetable garden and a distinctly home-made greenhouse at the edge of a verdant pasture.
Three mobile chicken coops — two made from repurposed tent trailers, and a red one with a more traditional look (though still on wheels) — are scattered across the pasture, where ocks of chickens and turkeys strut around inside wire enclosures, eating grass and scratching at the ground for more delectable treats.
Nearby, roaming Ancona ducks take advantage of a rain-filled depression at the edge of a grove of trees to swim and splash.
This is Crooked Fence Farm — and it is this small parcel of land that occupies the Nyboers’ waking hours — from sunup to sundown, on a typical day.
It’s been five years since Nyboer, a retired SFU professor, was given the opportunity to purchase the roughly five-acre lot in north Langley.
He visited the property in January, 2012 and knew immediately that, while he wanted to buy it, he couldn’t do it on his own.
“I talked to my daughter and said, ‘Do you want to do this? Can we do this?’”
The two couples sold their respective homes in suburban Surrey to purchase the property.
The move came as Nyboer, a former high school science and math teacher who specialized in biology before becoming a university professor and climate science expert, was set to retire.
While a backyard garden had always been a fixture for the couple, animal husbandry was an entirely new experience. With his background in biology, Nyboer said, he had “a sense of how to keep living things alive.”
That knowledge was tested one night when the family lost 13 geese to a pack of coyotes.
It was a terrible loss, said Nyboer, but he remained philosophical, taking from it the lesson that his birds would need to be kept closer to the main house.
Over the years, he has studied and picked up a few tricks of the trade from others with more experience.
One aspect of farm life that cannot be learned, but is nonetheless essential, he said, is an affinity for hard work.
“The day starts when the light comes. It’s not for everyone,” he said.
“The work is intense if you want to keep it tidy and attractive.”
From building fences to carrying water, feeding animals, tending and harvesting the vegetable garden, the physical labour that goes into maintaining even a small-lot farm is challenging, but deeply satisfying — mostly.
“For me, the worst thing on the farm is having to kill the animals,” Nyboer admitted. “But it’s part of the cycle, and we really enjoy the meat.” He subscribes to the notion that animals treated well in life and raised in a natural environment have a superior flavour.
The family raises the poultry for eggs and meat, as well as rabbits, all of which they consume or sell privately.
The garden offers another income stream, with the family bringing in as much as $4,000 a year selling vegetables —everything from kale to carrots, herbs and onions — both through farm gate sales and at the Fort Langley farmers market on Saturdays.
In addition to produce, Cynthia sells bedding plants, homemade bread, granola, jams and even pottery at the weekly market and at the farm’s front gate.
For the couple, the way things are done on the farm is as important as creating income. “It’s the notion of mimicking nature to increase production in a non-artificial way,” said Nyboer.
They use no artificial fertilizers and no pesticides. Wood chips are laid down wherever appropriate to help retain moisture, prevent weed growth and build organic matter. The coops are on wheels to ensure no one piece of land is used to exhaustion, he explained.
“You move the chickens and the land recovers. That’s the point.” When they renovated the house, the old windows were used to build the greenhouse. “Everything is re-used and repurposed.”
Solar panels located at the far end of the pasture provide some of the farm’s electricity and serve as a backup when the power goes out, as it frequently does on the rural property.
Any leftover power that is generated is sold to BC Hydro. As well as being responsible, these moves have the the added bonus of being economical. That’s important when it comes to maintaining a way of life that fewer Langley residents can afford to enjoy today than even a few decades ago.
One area in which they are able to save, is on groceries, said Nyboer.
“We pretty much eat for free.” There’s satisfaction in sitting down to a meal where everything on the table, except the salt, was produced on the farm.
As Nyboer speaks, Cynthia finds a moment to step out of the house.
She’s been busy on a Friday morning, baking bread to sell at the market the following day. Picking up on the comment about the meal, Cynthia noted that food security is a concern for her, with so much locally sold produce coming from California and Mexico.
But life on the small farm has shown her just how rich the Fraser Valley is, in terms of what can be produced here with a bit of hard work. And it’s a great way of life, she added.
Asked whether farm life has brought any other surprises, Cynthia chuckled that she certainly never expected to find herself in her nightie and gumboots, chasing off coyotes in the middle of the night.
But overall, she said, the experience has been wonderful. “The kids are loving it here,” she said, referring to her grandchildren, 5 and 2.
The next generation is always top of mind for the couple, who view themselves as stewards, rather than owners, of the land.
“The farm is a gift we only get to keep for a time. It’s not really ours,” said Cynthia. “But there’s a wonderful feeling of being self sufficient, to a degree.”
“You get into it because you have a passion for a peaceful life and don’t mind hard work,” said Nyboer. “The farm is not wealth-generating, but it’s wealth-giving in terms of physical fitness, a healthy psyche, a sense of purpose and a desire to see things come to fruition.
“You have to think of nature as being your ally instead of your foe. If you have all that, money becomes less of an issue.”
