The windrow — a long row of cut hay — is an iconic symbol of New England farming. Windrow Farm, based in Conway, celebrates agricultural traditions by focusing on the careful timing of hay cutting for different batches with both high and low sugar content.
Take note, dear readers: “based in Conway” indicates that Windrow Farm is not a bucolic setting where you can take a picnic lunch. If this sounds like a riddle, it’s because we’re not talking about a standard farm. We’ll get to that in a minute, but first, let’s rewind three dozen years to Jae Silverman’s second birthday.
Finding one’s career path in toddlerhood may be unusual, but a birthday present clinched it for Silverman. “I got a toy baler for my second birthday,” said the proprietor of Windrow Farm, who as a tyke fell in love with farm equipment — specifically haying apparatuses — after watching a neighbor make hay. “That’s when I knew.”
Now 38, Silverman makes hay on dozens of Conway acres without owning any of them. “I started by haying about 10 acres of other people’s fields in 2012,” said Silverman. “A couple of years ago, I did 50 acres; last year, it was 60, and this year, it’s over 70.”
The Conway native is the only child of a father who taught fifth grade at Gill Elementary School and a mother who worked as a nurse practitioner for the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Silverman’s parents didn’t mind driving their toddler around Conway to witness the haying process.
“I was obsessed,” said Silverman, who was known in town as “The Tractor Kid.” “I was lucky that my parents had summers off and enjoyed being outdoors.”
With one foot in Conway and another in Gill, Silverman grew up steeped in farming culture. “I went to Giving Tree (a nature-based preschool in Gill) and later worked at Uppingil (Farm),” said Silverman. “During middle and high school, and even during college, I worked for our Conway neighbor, Doug Baker, who became my hay mentor.”
Silverman is quick to pay homage to long lines of local farmers who made hay. After Baker retired last year, Silverman purchased hay wagons from him and now rents space in his barn, in addition to other Conway barns; the need for dry storage space is a huge factor in the hay business.
Silverman’s ability to produce around 8,000 bales per year is due, in part, to the number of Conway farmers needing to figure out what to do with their land following retirement. That’s where Silverman comes in, using life-sized versions of childhood toys to create what are called small square bales, differentiating them from the large square bales now made out west. The massive versions can be as large as 4 feet by 4 feet by 8 feet. In contrast, our local bales are measured in inches rather than feet: 36 inches long by 18 inches wide by 14 inches high.
“We track grass species to try to match each customer with the best type of feed for their animals,” said Silverman. “Our equipment is appropriately sized for our operation to reduce our carbon footprint. Sustainably minded farming practices and ethical animal husbandry are at the forefront of our mission.”
Customers include sheep farmers, those with small-scale goat dairies and other grass-based livestock farms, in addition to horse owners. “We love being part of food and fiber production,” said Silverman. “Plus, we help keep fields open.”
Silverman’s encyclopedic hay knowledge results, in part, from an academic background in computer skills, a college degree in plant soil and insect science, and a concentration in sustainable food and farming. The brainy UMass grad revels in spreadsheets and data, carefully cataloguing seasonal details.
“It appeals to the nerd in me,” said Silverman. “I love knowing that grass can be an efficient food source even though we can’t eat it ourselves.”
The lifelong hay enthusiast offered insight into production cycles: first cut and second cut hay differ mainly in plant maturity, texture, fiber levels and nutrient density. The former is coarser, higher in fiber and lower in calories, while the latter tends to be softer, leafier and higher in protein and energy. Hay production famously revolves around weather patterns, and Silverman watches predictions like a hawk: “I rely on weather apps and on Dave Hayes (the popular regional weather forecaster known as The Weather Nut). Someday, I’d love to get him out here to do a special event called Dave Hayes Hays!” When not making hay, Silverman works for Land for Good, a New Hampshire-based organization whose mission is to expand secure farmland access, tenure and transfer.
Chatting with Silverman brought back memories of my own. At age 10, I helped my uncle Jacques load hay bales onto wagons on our family’s dairy farm in Québec. Ever since I could walk and climb, the hayloft had been a quiet domain where I spent hours playing with kittens. I loved the golden rectangles that served as hayloft seating, climbing structures and resting spots.
The first day I worked with my uncle, I wanted to show just how cool a half-American kid could be when I met him at his tractor wearing a T-shirt and shorts, in contrast to his long-sleeved shirt and long pants. I wondered why someone would wear so much clothing on such a hot day? Jacques took one look at me and emitted his understated chuckle. It didn’t take long for me to learn why it’s a bad idea to move hay bales with skin exposed. After being repeatedly poked by the ends of first-cut hay, I looked like a pincushion — one of many important lessons I learned from my elders that summer.
Perhaps Silverman will someday mentor others in the art and science of making hay; for now, Windrow Farm machinery is revving up and the job is getting done all over Conway.
Eveline MacDougall is the author of Fiery Hope and can be reached at eveline@amandlachorus.org.