Why Vermont needs an agroforestry movement
Press Edible Vermont
Published August 25, 2026
Alleys of strawberries growing between rows of honeyberries. Curving lines of elderberries planted along the contour of a stream. Maple trees tapped each spring while patches of forest botanicals such as ramps and ginseng awaken beneath their canopy. Sheep grazing in the shade below diverse canopies of chestnut and hickory. Chickens feeding on mulberries raining down from above.
At first glance, these may seem like entirely separate endeavors. In reality, they are all part of a steadily growing movement here in the Northeast—one that goes by many names but is most often referred to as an agroforestry transition. Agroforestry is an ancient tradition made up of a series of land management practices—many of which have been developed by Indigenous communities across the globe over the course of thousands of years. All these practices involve integrating perennial crops that include trees and shrubs into annual cropping systems, and many of them have gained attention in New England in recent years as potential solutions to the challenges threatening the future of Vermont’s farms and forests.
Nearly 80 percent of the state of Vermont is forested, making it one of the most heavily forested states in the country. Yet, this vast landscape is facing pressures such as introduced pests and pathogens, increased fragmentation, and increasingly erratic weather. At the same time, our agricultural landscapes are also under tremendous pressure; farmers face similarly compounding challenges such as reduced access to farmland, increasingly unpredictable weather, and continued market consolidation.
Too often we treat farms and forests as separate systems. Agroforestry asks us to see them as interconnected. Our hope is that through this interconnectedness, agroforestry can help both our human communities and the ecosystems we exist within persist and thrive in the face of these challenges.
At Smokey House Center, a 5,000-acre farming and forestry research nonprofit in Danby, Vermont, we are just beginning to explore what this relationship can look like in practice. This past spring, more than 300 students from neighboring schools planted five varieties of honeyberries in a new berry alley cropping system on our main campus. The honeyberries form perennial rows while alleys of strawberries and squash were planted between the rows of honeyberries by our neighbors at Yoder Farm. Additionally, three rows of elderberries were planted on contour to form a riparian buffer that protects a nearby stream—another agroforestry practice that can feed people while protecting vulnerable ecosystems.
In a few years, this dual agroforestry system will become a community U- pick destination and source of food donations for local food access programs. Most important, it is serving as a living classroom where young people learn about biodiversity, soil health, pollinators, perennial agriculture, and reciprocal ecological relationships with land. The lesson is simple but essential: food can be produced in ways that strengthen rather than deplete the landscapes it’s grown on, in turn building resilience within our food systems in the face of a changing climate.
“Agroforestry is not a silver bullet, but it presents us an opportunity—and a set of ever-evolving tools—to recommit ourselves to place, to feeding our communities healthy food, to a bioregional way of living, to taking action in the face of an uncertain future.” –Walker Cammack and Danielle Zimmerman
Smokey House Center‘s main campus featuring 500 blueberry bushes—nearly 50 years old—and the new berry alley cropping system.
Agroforestry practices can take many forms outside of the above-mentioned alley cropping and riparian buffer plantings: silvopasture systems integrate livestock with trees, forest farming systems cultivate non-timber forest products such as high-value medicinal plants beneath the forest canopy, and windbreaks protect crop fields from wind while producing harvestable products such as fruit or nuts. Outside of these more defined practices, agroforestry continues to evolve as farmers and land stewards continually experiment with different systems, planting patterns, and species combinations.
Integrating perennials into agriculture systems in these ways has been shown to improve soil health, reduce erosion, provide wildlife habitat, sequester carbon, and increase water infiltration. In many cases these systems are more resilient to drought, flooding, and other extreme weather events compared to conventional farming. Additionally, they can diversify revenue streams for farmers while simultaneously decreasing off-farm inputs.
At Smokey House Center, forest farming has become a major area of research and education through a multiyear grant from the Northeast Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education (NE-SARE) program in collaboration with Northeast Forest Farmers Coalition and Yale School for the Environment and other regional partners. Together, we are exploring the intentional cultivation and stewardship of valuable at-risk native plants such as ginseng, ramps, Solomon’s seal, black cohosh, and goldenseal. This work seeks not only to diversify forest-derived income opportunities for farmers, but also to restore vulnerable plant populations by way of “conservation through cultivation.” In a region where keeping forests as forests is increasingly important, forest farming is a key part of a compelling vision: productive woodlands that support both ecological health and rural economies.
Agroforestry workshop participants with forest farmers Kai Thomas and Liang Cheng of Old Roots Farm.
The long-term hope, and what remains to be determined, is that these systems will support the longevity of Vermont’s farms in the face of the challenges of our time. Agroforestry is not a silver bullet, but it presents us an opportunity—and a set of ever-evolving tools—to recommit ourselves to place, to feeding our communities healthy food, to a bioregional way of living, to taking action in the face of an uncertain future. Picture a farmer harvesting their ginseng crop as a financial alleviation after their vegetable crops suffered in a summer of drought. And a farmer harvesting specialty fruit to sell from a riparian buffer zone that is protecting their riverbanks from erosion. And a farmer harvesting chestnuts in a silvopasture field that provides shade all summer long for their neighbors’ livestock. Imagine ramp harvesting rituals in spring and persimmon harvesting festivals in autumn. This is a future filled with agroforestry—one where Vermont agriculture continues to diversify rather than consolidate. Just as a dairy farmer might make cheese or a vegetable farmer might participate in agrotourism, agroforestry systems offer another avenue for diversification.
Yet, despite the promise of these systems, significant barriers remain. Technical expertise is limited; markets for emerging products such as nuts, botanicals, and specialty fruits are still developing; and processing infrastructure remains sparse. Farmers planting many of these crops do so knowing that the full benefits may not be realized for years. At its heart, agroforestry is an exercise in long-term thinking. There is optimism in that act. There is also trust—trust that future generations will inherit these systems and continue to care for them.
Perhaps this is why agroforestry feels so important and appropriate in Vermont. We are a state filled with sugar maples that take decades to mature, of stone walls built by hands centuries ago, of conserved land protected for generations by those we will never meet. We understand the value of planting something whose greatest gifts may arrive in the future.
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