Agriculture

Nature photographer Aldo Brando saw a horrible beauty in the destruction visited upon Colombia's national parks by outlaw coca growers. As his helicopter slalomed through a dozen sky-high columns of smoke from fires set by poachers clearing Macarena National Park, Brando saw endless "craters" of lime-green coca. He likened the park's once unbroken carpet of dark green primeval forest, now scarred by roads, fires and illegal chemicals, to "the black-and-white palette of war."

Deep in the green avocado groves, the winter quiet is shattered by the whine of chain saws. Workers wielding machetes slash leafy branches from the trees and spray-paint the tall stumps white to protect the bark from sunburn in the forced hibernation to come. Here, in the heart of the nation's avocado industry, growers are beheading their avocado trees.

Sigfried Carrle angled his farmer's hat into a forceful wind roaring across the Antelope Valley. He did not blink, even when a fly bounced off his craggy cheek. Dust curdled the air and shrouded the sun, and stalks of wheat trembled like the strings of a harp. The sign at Carrle's farm stand on the gravel shoulder of California 138, in the town of Neenach, read: "Last Chance Peaches." The landscape was so bleak it seemed prudent to ask: Before what?

Corn is a key element of the U.S. food supply. It is what dairy cows eat to make milk and hens consume to lay eggs. It fattens cattle, hogs and chickens before slaughter. It makes soda sweet. As the building block of ethanol, it is now also a major component of auto fuel. And that may signal trouble ahead.

Perched on less than an acre of land off an unpaved road in a hardscrabble rural area, farmer Gumercindo Ajanel would hardly seem like a Wal-Mart regular. But in fact, he's working for the American retail giant. On a recent morning, he proudly displayed fresh-picked cilantro and parsley he ships to the chain's local stores. A company agronomist taught him to grow greens that are hygienic and visually appealing. Best of all, he said, Wal-Mart buys frequently and pays promptly.

Ten years ago, after Judee Haddock married off the last of her three children, her house in Orange County suddenly felt very quiet. She was 53 years old -- far too young and far too healthy, she figured, to sit around listening to the floorboards creak. "No more kids. No more husbands," she said with a chuckle. "Time for a change." She bought a house in Norco, in the northwest corner of Riverside County. The place was a dump; her children were aghast.

From the world's poorest corners to its most prosperous, people are facing much higher prices for food. Increases are driven by the high cost of energy to grow and transport crops, poor harvests in major exporting countries such as Australia, increased demand in developing nations including China and India, and a rush to produce biofuels. High prices and shortages have led to violent protests and political turmoil.

The U.S. Agriculture Department sent shudders through much of the food industry Monday when it released estimates that showed farmers would plant 8% less corn this year. With corn prices already pushing up food prices, a spokesman for the Grocery Manufacturers Assn. called the projection "alarming" and warned that the estimate bodes ill for consumers at the supermarket.

Today a high school, tomorrow an orchard (with a high school attached). That was sort of the idea when students from the Environmental Charter High School in Lawndale got down and dirty helping to plant some 60 fruit trees and shrubs on their small campus near Hawthorne Boulevard. The school, now in its seventh year, has an environmental focus and a college preparatory curriculum.

Wal-Mart Stores Inc. said it had purchased more than 12 million pounds of cotton from farmers who are changing over from conventional to organic farming, to boost the supply of certified organic cotton in the marketplace. To encourage farmers to switch to organic cotton, Wal-Mart said it bought the transitional cotton from farmers at the same premium cost of certified organic cotton. It can take roughly three years before the crops can be certified as organic.