Macalla means the ‘hill of the echo’ in Irish and is the name for the green hill above our house and residential centre. We like to think that there are indeed vibrations filling the
air – a re-sounding of Michael Joe’s legacy – the work we’re doing resonating further afield, just as we have tuned into the reverberations of the regenerative work of those we continue to learn from.
The farm is made up of diverse habitats – a large area of upland mountain and bog which becomes a vibrant purple in August when the heather blooms. Lowland multispecies grassland undulating over pre- and post- famine cultivation ridges. A very special native woodland on a north facing slope, the other side an area of severe cutaway bog- a stark reminder of the effect of historical resource extraction. A tree plantation of broadleaf and native species, more trees planted in corners and edges of fields. Our gardens and polytunnels finding their sheltered niche below Macalla. Nevertheless, these habitats bearing the brunt of Atlantic weather systems, extreme wind, rain, salt on marginal and acidic soils, a climate that is warming, becoming measurably more extreme and unpredictable.
When we started at Macalla farm more than two decades ago, our interests and passions were many – yoga, vegetarianism, horses, tree planting, living close to the land. Two decades on, these passions have only deepened and widened – the boundaries between them becoming more porous. We started to not only see that everything was interconnected but actually experience it as such. What matters is how we are in relation to ourselves and to others and crucially how we are in relation to the non-human world. The crises of climate, natural systems and inequality demand that we show up and respond as best we can. This ever evolving response colours all that we do.
Thus our approach to yoga, to all aspects of food, to the land and the animals is one that is caring, playful, inclusive, regenerative – maybe best described as an exploratory and ethical process rather than something fixed and complete.
An invitation, then, to join us – on one of our Sati Yoga retreats or practical courses on food or horses or in the Stone Barn Cafe for a meal or as a volunteer –
or all of the above!
Garden
Though we cultivate just a quarter of an acre, we grow nearly all the vegetables and fruit needed to feed our family, volunteers, retreat guests, and café — and are now producing more to supply the wider island.
We’re often astonished by how much the land yields, thanks largely to the polytunnels. We once stopped counting at 50 different crops — including over a dozen heritage tomato varieties — grown from organic, open-source seed, much of it saved ourselves.
We use no chemicals, instead learning to work with natural systems to improve soil health, manage pests, and move steadily toward a regenerative, no-dig approach.
Every year, from germination to harvest, we’re amazed all over again — especially when we see kilos of tomatoes, butternut squash, and grapes.
We have to pinch ourselves that this has all grown on a wind swept rock in the Atlantic.
woodland
The old native woodland is located on a north facing slope at the most sheltered part of the farm, nearest the sea. Covering roughly 3 ha, there are birch, hazel, holly, mountain ash, willow and oak. And, of course, it is filled with ivy, ferns, moss, lichens, bluebells, insects, small woodland mammals and birds – a biodiverse ecosystem bursting with life. A present day glimpse into what this type of west of Ireland habitat looked like in the past, a survivor of the catastrophes of 19th century demographics and famine and much earlier agricultural clearance.
It is an honour to be its steward of this special place. Fenced off from livestock nearly 30 years ago, it never ceases to delight and amaze: being witness to the birch reseeding – uphill, into heather and against the prevailing wind – against all the odds in such inclement conditions. We occasionally graze sheep amongst the trees for short periods in the autumn and winter, our ongoing agroforestry experiment.
Since the mid 90’s over 6000 trees have been planted, they’ve gone in wherever they can – on edges, in corners making thickets and copses. The largest plantation of nearly 2 ha planted in an old hay meadow over 25 years ago connects the woodland along the valley below our house. When the first canopy closed above a copse of ash, the feeling was hard to describe – the exhileration of nature’s processes coupled with the inexorable passage of time.
Climate/biodiversity mitigation
Our choice two decades ago, to settle on Clare Island, start a family, live more closely on the land, came about largely due to our awareness of the precarious state of the environment. There was a sense that yes, we could do our bit by opting out, limit our consumption and carbon footprint by growing our own food, installing solar panels, minimizing waste, composting, keeping bees.
All these things we continue to do, but it has become apparent for a good while that this is not enough. The enormity of the crisis we’re living in demands a full reckoning. How we cultivate the soil and keep our animals, how we use energy, what purchases we make, how we travel, what and how we teach, all take place within the context of the crisis and the choices we make.
We are continuously exploring regenerative approaches and have come to regard decision making on every level to be an ethical practice.
Theo and Maude, our two children have increased the focus with their climate activism. They continue to inspire and push us more urgently to action. You can listen to Theo’s podcast here
macalla animals
Our lives are inextricably linked with the animals we share the farm with and can’t imagine a world without them. They all have jobs to do to some degree- the dogs with their sheep gathering duties, the cats and their mice patrol, the milking sheep providing our family with yoghurt, kefir and cheese, the ducks laying eggs, the horses making themselves available to be ridden and providing nutrients for the compost.
We aim to care for them in the most natural way possible and are moving towards a fully chemical free management system for both the sheep and horses. We ride the horses bitlesss and without shoes, using natural hoof trimming methods.
But more than anything else, they help us move outside of our human-centric world and come into relation with other non-human beings. A sort of applied mindfulness, informing our yoga practice and teaching, helping others to reconnect to experience through our retreats. They offer us continuous lessons in embodiment and being present.
