The Monchique Stewardship System has developed from more than ten years of living, farming, observing and learning in the Serra de Monchique.
It is not intended to be a rigid agricultural prescription, nor do we claim to have discovered all the answers. Quite the opposite. One of the most important lessons the land has taught us is that there will always be more to learn.
The System provides us with a framework for making decisions.
“Every decision either strengthens or weakens the living system. There is no truly neutral decision.”
Water, soil, plants, animals, microorganisms, wildlife and people are not separate components. They are interconnected parts of one living landscape. When one relationship is weakened, the consequences can spread throughout the system. When those relationships are strengthened, the landscape becomes increasingly resilient.
The practices described in this Guide are those we use, are developing, or intend to trial at Quinta Picapau and Raízes da Montanha. They will continue to evolve as our understanding grows. This is therefore a living Practice Guide.
Stewardship begins not with tools or techniques, but with an honest assessment of what we can actually give to the land — and what it genuinely needs from us.
Perhaps the first act of stewardship is not caring for the land. It is being honest with ourselves.
Before anyone buys or acquires land, there is one question that should be answered without hesitation or illusion: Can I actively steward this land?
The answer requires an honest assessment of our circumstances: our age and physical ability; the time we can realistically devote; our knowledge and experience; our financial resources; our access to help; and our ability to adapt as circumstances change.
Land does not ask for good intentions. It requires consistent care.
A neglected landscape gradually loses resilience. Water infrastructure deteriorates. Vegetation becomes unbalanced. Access disappears. Fuel loads accumulate. Invasive species can spread and opportunities to intervene at the right moment are lost.
Modern machinery can greatly increase our ability to steward land. Tractors, shredders, excavators, irrigation equipment and other technologies reduce physical labour and allow us to manage larger areas, particularly in an increasingly hot and demanding climate. But machinery also requires capital, maintenance, fuel, knowledge and time.
Good stewardship is a balance between ambition and capability.
There is no virtue in owning more land than can responsibly be managed. A smaller property receiving consistent care may contribute far more to the health of the landscape than a much larger property slowly falling into neglect.
The steward does not measure success by the number of hectares owned, but by the quality of care given to every hectare. This is particularly relevant in Monchique, where abandonment and under-management of rural properties have contributed to deteriorating infrastructure, vegetation accumulation and increasing wildfire risk.
Stewardship is not simply ownership. Ownership carries responsibility.
Before asking what the land can provide for us, perhaps we should first ask: Can we provide what the land needs?
“The size of a steward is not measured by the land they own, but by the land they can faithfully care for.”
Every landscape tells a story. The challenge is learning how to read it.
The purchase of Quinta Picapau began a very steep learning curve for us. When we arrived, the soil appeared reasonably good and there was abundant water. Yet the land had remarkably little ability to retain moisture.
Years of cultivation, repeated flood irrigation and reliance on agricultural inputs appeared to have left areas of soil compacted and biologically depleted. There was little visible wildlife and the ground seemed heavily dependent upon regular irrigation and continued intervention.
Our first attempt at growing fava beans was a disaster. What initially appeared to be a simple crop failure became an important lesson. We gradually realised that we had been looking at the crop when we should have been looking at the system supporting it.
Over the following decade our thinking changed considerably. We began questioning many of the practices we had previously taken for granted and increasingly focused upon the relationships between water, soil, plants, animals and biology. From that process the Monchique Stewardship System began to emerge.
It is the framework we now use to maintain focus, guide our decisions and share what we are learning with anyone interested in our work.
Stewardship is not defined by the tools we use or the crops we grow. It begins with the way we think before we act.
We do not believe ownership confers absolute authority over a landscape. We care for land during our lifetime before eventually passing responsibility to those who follow. The terraces, springs, cork oaks and woodlands of Monchique existed before us and, if stewarded wisely, will continue long after us.
Agricultural problems are often separated into categories: poor soil, low yields, pests, water shortages or wildfire. A steward learns to recognise that these can be symptoms of deeper relationships that have broken down.
Many agricultural decisions are judged by this year's harvest. Stewardship asks a different question: Will this decision still be beneficial twenty or fifty years from now? Planting a cork oak is an act of faith. Building soil takes time. Restoring a degraded landscape may take decades. The steward values long-term resilience over short-term gain.
Nature constantly gives us clues. A failed crop may reveal poor soil structure. Erosion may reveal unmanaged water. A pest outbreak may indicate ecological imbalance. Wildfire may expose dangerous fuel continuity and landscape abandonment.
Instead of immediately asking: "How do I eliminate this problem?" we first ask: "What is the landscape trying to tell me?"
No one completely understands a living system. Every farm is different. Every season is different. Every year teaches something new. Stewardship therefore requires curiosity, observation and a willingness to change our minds.
Stewardship is first a mindset and then a practice.
A property boundary exists on a map. A living system does not recognise it. Learning to read the landscape — its water, soil, vegetation, animals and wider context — is the foundation of everything that follows.
When we were acquiring Quinta Picapau, we were fortunate to be able to wander freely around the property. Although heavily overgrown, we could see water and the potential to restore access to the terraces. The soil looked promising and there were areas of disturbed ground that we assumed had been created by Javali — wild boar.
But our attention stopped at the property boundary. We studied Quinta Picapau without properly studying the landscape surrounding it.
In hindsight, this was an important mistake. Had we read the wider landscape more carefully, we might have better recognised the wildfire threat presented by large areas of unmanaged neighbouring vegetation. In August 2018, catastrophic wildfire swept through the Serra de Monchique. Approximately 40% of our cork oak woodland was destroyed, representing an enormous ecological loss as well as the loss of future cork production.
“A property boundary exists on a map. A living system does not recognise it. Water crosses boundaries. Wildlife crosses boundaries. Seeds cross boundaries. Fire crosses boundaries.”
True stewardship therefore requires us to look beyond the land we own.
Nature is constantly communicating. Together they form the language of the living system.
Observe where water enters. Where does it accelerate? Where does it pool? Where does erosion occur? Where does it disappear? Existing watercourses should be understood before they are altered. Every drop retained in the landscape during the wet season may become valuable during the long Mediterranean summer.
Colour alone cannot diagnose soil health, but darkening topsoil can indicate increasing organic matter. We look for structure, smell, aggregation, moisture, root penetration, biological activity and evidence of compaction.
Earthworms are particularly useful biological indicators. Charles Darwin devoted years to studying their role in soil formation [REF]. Their burrowing, feeding and casting can improve soil structure, aeration, organic-matter incorporation and water movement. Their abundance tells us something important about the conditions below our feet.
Since becoming custodians of Quinta Picapau, we have witnessed an encouraging increase in songbirds. Birds search our land for earthworms and insects, including many insects capable of damaging vegetable crops. Their return is not simply pleasant. It is evidence that ecological relationships are being rebuilt.
Animals constantly provide feedback. We observe where they choose to graze or browse, which plants they select, where they rest, where they seek shade and water, and how their behaviour changes. Their condition and behaviour can reveal things that might otherwise be overlooked.
Trees are the long-term memory of the landscape. Their growth records drought, fire, disease and previous management. Premature leaf loss, dieback, poor flowering, weak growth or a lack of regeneration may indicate problems extending far beyond the tree itself. Tree health can reflect soil condition, water availability, fungal relationships and wider ecological stress.
Soil temperature is easily overlooked. Vegetation, mulch and organic matter provide natural insulation. Bare soil exposed to intense Mediterranean sunlight can become considerably hotter than the surrounding air. As the surface heats and dries, conditions become increasingly difficult for roots, earthworms, fungi and microorganisms. Moisture evaporates faster and biological activity can decline.
We regard ground cover not merely as vegetation but as part of the landscape's climate-control system.
Intervention should follow understanding, not precede it.
Many agricultural terraces around Monchique contain Cambisol-type soils [REF]: relatively young soils that can offer good agricultural potential but may be shallow, free-draining and vulnerable to erosion or compaction depending upon location and management.
At Quinta Picapau and Raízes da Montanha, our concern is less about trying to fundamentally change the mineral soil and more about rebuilding its living component. Our greatest opportunity is organic matter.
Where organic matter and biological activity are poor: water may infiltrate less effectively or drain away rapidly; soil temperatures rise; erosion becomes more damaging; nutrient cycling weakens; and resilience declines.
Our response is therefore to rebuild living soil through: permanent ground cover; compost; appropriately prepared biochar; diverse cover crops; living roots; carefully managed animals; minimal unnecessary disturbance; and the continual return of organic carbon to the land.
We regard each terrace as more than a cultivated strip. The retaining wall, bank, growing area, vegetation, roots, water, insects and microorganisms form one interconnected system.
Productivity becomes a consequence of ecosystem health rather than its sole purpose.
Without water nothing else thrives. Our objective is simple: slow it, spread it, sink it, store it. The soil itself can become one of our greatest reservoirs.
When we purchased Quinta Picapau, dense vegetation covered much of the farm. As we reclaimed access and flailed overgrown areas, hidden watercourses gradually revealed themselves. Rainfall was being carried rapidly through the property and into the stream below. One of our most valuable resources was leaving almost as quickly as it arrived.
We restored old silted water tanks and installed new distribution infrastructure. At the highest point of the property, runoff from an adjoining road had cut a channel down the hillside. Instead of allowing this to continue unchecked, we constructed a swale across the upper area. Water that had previously accelerated downhill could now be intercepted, slowed and spread, increasing the opportunity for infiltration.
“Slow it. Spread it. Sink it. Store it. The soil itself can become one of our greatest reservoirs. This is why we describe water as our primary crop.”
Water storage does not begin with a tank. It begins with soil.
Healthy structure, roots, organic matter, vegetation and biological activity can all increase the ability of a landscape to intercept and retain rainfall. Our reservoirs and tanks remain extremely important, but so too are terraces, vegetation, mulch, compost, roots, ponds and functioning soil.
Each provides another opportunity to keep water within the landscape for longer. In a Mediterranean climate, winter rainfall is effectively a deposit into the landscape's water account. The challenge is keeping as much of that deposit available as possible for the months when rain disappears.
Water stewardship is not simply about capturing everything.
The exceptionally wet winter of 2026 reinforced this lesson. Eventually soil becomes saturated. Once that point is reached, additional water must have somewhere safe to go. Uncontrolled water can undermine terraces, erode valuable topsoil, damage infrastructure and alter entire slopes.
Water should be treated neither as friend nor enemy. It is a powerful natural force that must be understood. Too little creates drought. Too much can create destruction. Resilience requires preparation for both.
Soil is not an inert material requiring repeated feeding. It is a living ecosystem. Our aim is to create conditions in which the living soil can increasingly support the crop itself.
Good soil stewardship is the bedrock of our farms. We increasingly view soil not as an inert material requiring repeated feeding, but as a living ecosystem.
Our learning has been influenced by researchers and educators including Christine Jones, Elaine Ingham and Walter Jehne [REF], whose work has encouraged us to explore plant–soil carbon relationships, soil food webs and the connections between soil, water and climate.
The objective is not simply to feed a crop. It is to create conditions in which the living soil can increasingly support the crop itself.
Compost is far more than fertiliser. It transforms the residues of one process into the resources required by another.
Manure, bedding, leaves, crop residues, weeds, food waste, woody material and other organic resources can be brought together and transformed into stable organic matter. Good compost can support microbial diversity, contribute organic matter, improve soil structure and help nutrients remain within the biological cycle [REF].
Increasing organic matter can also improve the soil's ability to absorb and retain water. Compost supports the organisms that perform much of the work we would otherwise attempt to replace with purchased inputs.
“Compost is the digestive system of the farm. It transforms residues into fertility and dead organic material into part of the living foundation of the landscape. We do not make compost simply to feed plants. We make compost to feed the living soil, and the living soil feeds everything else.”
Nature rarely leaves healthy soil exposed for long. Forests cover themselves with leaves, bark, branches and dead vegetation. We seek to imitate this process.
Woodchip is particularly useful around trees and perennial systems. Straw can provide excellent vegetable-bed cover. Leaves are nature's own mulch. Eucalyptus is an abundant resource on our land — rather than treating every branch as waste, we intend to shred substantial quantities for mulch and compost production.
Monchique requires an important qualification. Organic mulch can benefit soil enormously while dry organic material can also burn. We therefore avoid treating mulch as universally beneficial regardless of location. Around buildings, infrastructure and vulnerable tree trunks, depth, moisture, material and distance all matter. Soil regeneration and fire safety must be designed together.
Biochar is carbon-rich material produced by heating suitable biomass under limited oxygen [REF]. Unlike ash, much of its carbon remains in a relatively stable form. Its porous structure can provide habitat for microorganisms and can influence water and nutrient retention depending upon the biochar, soil and application method.
For us, its greatest potential lies in combination with compost. Fresh biochar should not simply be regarded as fertiliser. We prefer to incorporate it into biologically and nutrient-rich materials such as compost or manure before soil application.
“Compost is the living community. Biochar is the village they live in.”
Biochar also creates an important opportunity in a fire-prone landscape. Woody material that might otherwise accumulate as fuel can be harvested appropriately and converted into a long-lived soil resource. This does not mean every branch should become biochar. It means biochar can become one useful destination within a wider biomass-management strategy.
Most of the living system that sustains agriculture exists out of sight. Carbon, fungi, bacteria and earthworms form a community beneath our feet that no purchased input can replicate.
Plants do not simply take from soil. They also feed it. Through photosynthesis, plants capture atmospheric carbon and use sunlight to manufacture carbon compounds. Some of this carbon moves below ground through roots and root exudates, supporting microorganisms around the rhizosphere [REF].
Carbon moves continually through plants, animals, microorganisms and soil. It helps build organic matter. Organic matter supports soil structure. Healthy structure improves water behaviour. Biological activity cycles nutrients.
We describe carbon as the currency of life. Carbon is also stored sunlight. Every leaf represents solar energy captured and invested in life.
Bacteria exist in extraordinary abundance and diversity within healthy soils. They participate in decomposition, nutrient transformation and relationships with plant roots. The rhizosphere — the zone immediately surrounding living roots — is an area of particularly intense biological activity because plants release carbon compounds that support microbial communities [REF].
Certain bacteria also form important relationships with legumes, helping convert atmospheric nitrogen into biologically useful forms [REF]. This is one reason plants such as clovers, peas, beans, lupins and vetch are so valuable within regenerative systems.
If fungi are among the architects of living soil, bacteria are part of its enormous unseen workforce.
Earthworms consume organic material, produce biologically active casts and create channels through the soil. Those channels can improve aeration and provide pathways for water and roots. Earthworms also perform something machinery struggles to achieve without disturbance: they continually incorporate organic matter while maintaining the soil's living structure [REF].
Their abundance generally tells us that several conditions are being met simultaneously: there is food; there is sufficient moisture; there is oxygen; and the environment is capable of supporting biological activity.
“When earthworms flourish, the landscape is telling us something about the conditions we have created.”
Bare soil is vulnerable soil. Cover crops, minimal disturbance and intelligent nutrient cycling are how we keep the land covered, rooted and biologically active for as much of the year as the climate allows.
Bare soil is vulnerable soil. We think of cover crops as the living skin of the land.
Diversity is particularly valuable. Legumes such as clovers, vetches, peas, lupins and fava beans can support biological nitrogen fixation. Grasses such as oats, rye and barley produce abundant roots and biomass. Brassicas such as daikon radish and mustard provide different rooting structures and nutrient-cycling functions. Flowering plants such as phacelia, buckwheat and borage can provide resources for pollinators and beneficial insects.
In Monchique, winter-growing mixtures are especially interesting because they can make use of seasonal rainfall before summer drought becomes dominant.
Keep the land covered, rooted and alive for as much of the year as the climate allows.
Nature contains disturbance. Wild boar root. Animals graze. Trees fall. Floods move soil. Fire transforms vegetation. The problem is not disturbance itself. The problem is disturbance that is excessive, repetitive or leaves insufficient opportunity for recovery.
Mechanical cultivation can break aggregates, disturb fungal networks, expose organic matter and leave soil vulnerable to erosion and temperature extremes. We therefore minimise disturbance wherever practical. But we are not dogmatic about it.
Machinery may be necessary to restore abandoned terraces, repair erosion, create safe access, install water infrastructure, remove invasive vegetation, plant trees or address severe compaction.
“The important question is not: "Did we disturb the soil?" It is: "Was the disturbance necessary, proportionate and likely to improve the long-term functioning of the system?"”
Nature has no concept of waste.
Leaves fall and decompose. Animals eat plants and return manure. Roots die. Fungi consume wood. Microorganisms release nutrients. New plants grow. The cycle continues. Our objective is to keep nutrients circulating within the farm for as long as possible.
Animals are particularly important. Vegetation becomes animal food. Food becomes manure and urine. Manure becomes compost. Compost feeds soil. Soil grows vegetation. The same principle applies to prunings, leaves, bedding and crop residues.
“Not merely: "How do I feed this crop?" but: "How do I keep fertility cycling through this living system?"”
Trees, orchards, shrubs and agroforestry layers are not separate enterprises. They are a whole system. The highest expression of agriculture may be a productive landscape that increasingly behaves like a healthy ecosystem.
Trees connect atmosphere, soil, water, wildlife and people. They harvest sunlight. They create shade. Their roots explore deep soil. Their leaves and branches become organic matter. They support fungi, insects, birds and mammals. They intercept rainfall and alter the microclimate beneath them.
Trees are far more than agricultural products. They are structural members of the ecosystem.
Cork oak is one of the defining trees of our landscape. A mature cork oak can represent generations of stewardship. The 2018 wildfire taught us that damage to these trees may continue long after the flames disappear. Some trees that initially survived subsequently declined. Others became structurally weakened and eventually fell during high winds. Fire leaves a legacy that can take years to reveal itself.
Eucalyptus already exists extensively within our landscape. Our challenge is therefore not simply to debate whether it should be there. It is to decide how the resource we inherited can be managed responsibly.
A steward does not measure success by how many trees are planted. The better measure is how many are still thriving decades later.
An orchard can be far more than rows of fruit trees. We want our orchards to become productive ecosystems.
Trees provide the structure, but their success depends upon what surrounds and supports them: living soil, fungi, water, ground cover, pollinators, organic matter, animals and people.
Bare soil is avoided wherever practical. Compost supports biology. Mulch conserves moisture. Cover crops protect the ground and provide habitat. Animals may contribute insect control and nutrient cycling when introduced at appropriate times.
The objective is not maximum fruit production at any ecological cost. It is to produce excellent food while the system supporting that production becomes healthier.
Shrubs occupy the space between ground vegetation and tree canopy. They protect soil, stabilise slopes, provide wildlife habitat, produce flowers and fruit and add another layer of photosynthesis to the landscape. Monchique already contains remarkable native and adapted shrub communities including medronho, myrtle, heathers and rockroses.
Too little shrub vegetation removes valuable habitat and soil protection. Dense, continuous unmanaged shrub vegetation can become a serious component of wildfire fuel.
Our aim is therefore not to eliminate shrubs. It is to manage them as part of a diverse mosaic. Grazing, pruning, selective clearing, access and strategic fuel management can allow the ecological value of shrubs to remain without permitting dangerous fuel continuity to dominate the landscape.
Agroforestry brings many of these relationships together. Trees, shrubs, crops, animals, water and soil biology are deliberately integrated rather than treated as separate enterprises. Different vegetation layers capture sunlight at different heights. Roots occupy different depths. Animals recycle nutrients. Trees provide shade. Shrubs provide habitat. Ground cover protects soil. Fungi connect roots. Water moves through the whole system.
At Quinta Picapau and Raízes da Montanha, this may eventually include combinations of cork oak, managed eucalyptus, fruit and nut trees, medronho, myrtle, herbs, cover crops, native grasses and carefully integrated livestock.
“The objective is not to create a complicated collection of species. It is to create useful relationships. The highest expression of agriculture may be a productive landscape that increasingly behaves like a healthy ecosystem.”
Every leaf is a solar collector. Biomass is stored sunlight waiting for a purpose. In Monchique, the challenge is not simply to produce more vegetation — it is to produce, cycle and manage biomass intelligently.
Every leaf is a solar collector. Through photosynthesis, plants transform sunlight, water and carbon dioxide into living material. That material is biomass.
A pile of prunings is not automatically rubbish. It is a resource waiting for a purpose.
In Monchique there is an essential qualification. Unmanaged biomass can become wildfire fuel. Regeneration therefore cannot simply mean producing ever more vegetation. It means producing, cycling and managing biomass intelligently.
At our farms we use grazing, shredding, composting, mulching, pruning, firewood production and biochar to convert potentially hazardous vegetation into useful resources. The objective is neither a stripped landscape nor an impenetrable mass of vegetation. It is a productive, hydrated and deliberately managed mosaic.
Livestock are not production units. They are ecological participants. The ecological value comes entirely from management — the right animal, in the right place, at the right time, for the right purpose.
Grazing and browsing animals have influenced terrestrial ecosystems for millions of years. They consume vegetation, recycle nutrients, disperse seeds, disturb soil and influence plant communities. Within the Monchique Stewardship System, livestock are therefore not regarded simply as production units. They are ecological participants.
This does not mean that animals automatically regenerate land. Poorly managed livestock can cause enormous damage. The ecological value comes from management.
“The right animal, in the right place, at the right time, for the right purpose.”
Our Kune Kune pigs are predominantly grazers and can manage vegetation while causing less soil disturbance than many conventional pig breeds when appropriately stocked and managed. They recycle nutrients while also producing food.
Goats are excellent browsers and can play an important role in controlling dense vegetation and reducing fuel loads. But the very behaviour that makes them useful can make them destructive. Young trees and valuable shrubs require protection and grazing pressure must be carefully controlled.
Chickens contribute eggs, meat, manure and insect control while scratching surface organic material. Ducks can contribute to slug and insect management. Quail provide food production within a comparatively small physical footprint.
Even our donkey participates in the system. Its manure becomes an important compost ingredient, moving nutrients back into the soil. No animal is kept simply because it fits an agricultural category. Each should have a reason for being part of the living system.
Animals can regenerate or degrade land depending upon how they are managed. Stocking pressure, duration, season, soil condition and recovery all matter. Overgrazing removes too much plant material and weakens roots. Under-management in a fire landscape can allow excessive vegetation to accumulate.
Our task is to find the changing balance between the two.
Animals should be moved and managed so vegetation has sufficient opportunity to recover. Their natural behaviour should be expressed wherever possible, with appropriate food, clean water, shelter and space.
“Successful animal stewardship is measured not only by the condition of the livestock. It is also measured by the condition of the land they leave behind.”
We no longer see wildfire solely as an emergency beginning when smoke appears on the horizon. Fire begins long before the spark. A wildfire-resilient landscape is created through thousands of decisions made during the months and years before fire arrives.
In August 2018, wildfire devastated Quinta Picapau and the surrounding Serra de Monchique. Many mature cork oaks were destroyed. Others appeared to survive. Only during subsequent years did we begin to understand the full impact. Trees that remained standing slowly lost vigour. Some eventually fell during periods of strong wind.
The damage caused by extreme heat had not always been immediately visible. The fire taught us that landscapes carry hidden scars.
Recovery cannot be judged simply by what remains green when the smoke clears. It requires years of observation.
We no longer see wildfire solely as an emergency beginning when smoke appears on the horizon. Fire begins long before the spark.
Land abandonment therefore matters enormously.
A landscape that is continually visited and productively managed provides opportunities to identify problems while they are still manageable. Vegetation can be controlled. Tracks can remain accessible. Water systems can be maintained. Fallen trees can be dealt with. Equipment can be kept ready.
Fire resilience is not one intervention. It is a consequence of continuous stewardship.
No land-management system can guarantee protection from extreme wildfire. Our objective is to improve the odds. We seek to create a landscape that is difficult for fire to move through continuously and capable of recovering after disturbance.
This includes managing fuel while retaining ecological cover. It means maintaining access without unnecessarily stripping the land. It means storing water while providing safe overflow. It means using animals where appropriate. It means maintaining firefighting equipment when weather conditions demand readiness.
It also means preparing people. Fire is not merely a forestry issue. It is a whole-landscape issue.
Eucalyptus is frequently presented as the principal explanation for catastrophic wildfire in Portugal. The reality is more complex. Our question at Raízes da Montanha is: how can an inherited eucalyptus stand be progressively managed so that it becomes an asset rather than a liability?
Eucalyptus is frequently presented as the principal explanation for catastrophic wildfire in Portugal. The reality is more complex. Fire behaviour emerges from interactions between weather, topography, fuel type, fuel moisture, fuel continuity and management [REF].
Eucalyptus has characteristics relevant to fire behaviour and should not be treated casually. But focusing upon one species can obscure wider landscape problems such as abandonment, unmanaged shrubland, continuous fuels and increasingly severe fire weather.
The lesson we take is not that eucalyptus is harmless. It is that management matters.
Our intention is to progressively thin and manage eucalyptus while creating opportunities for greater diversity. Selective removal can reduce competition, improve access, lower fuel continuity, provide useful biomass and create space for other species.
Goats may help manage understory vegetation where appropriate, although their impact upon desirable regeneration must be controlled. Over time, selected areas can provide opportunities for cork oak, medronho, productive trees and other vegetation appropriate to the site.
This is not an overnight transformation. Woodland stewardship operates on a long timescale.
A eucalyptus tree has more than one possible destination. Larger suitable timber may have commercial value. Thinnings can become shredded biomass. Woody material can become mulch or compost feedstock. Suitable dry material can become biochar. Other wood can provide heating fuel. Some material can remain within the woodland where its ecological function outweighs its fire risk.
“The highest value of a tree is not necessarily the price it commands at the mill. Its value can also lie in the soil it eventually builds, the energy it provides, the carbon it stores and the opportunity its management creates for a more diverse future woodland.”
A landscape that cannot support the people who care for it will ultimately be at risk of abandonment. The question is not how much we can extract — but how this landscape can support people while becoming healthier every year.
The decline of small farms in the Serra de Monchique cannot be explained by farming practices alone. Food systems changed. Large retailers offered consumers enormous choice, convenience and increasingly centralised distribution. Small farms struggled to compete on price and volume. As profitability declined, land was abandoned.
Terraces deteriorated. Water systems disappeared. Grazing declined. Knowledge was lost. Vegetation accumulated. The consequences therefore extended beyond food production. When a local food economy disappears, the landscape can lose the people who once had an economic reason to maintain it.
“A landscape that cannot support the people who care for it will ultimately be at risk of abandonment. Ecological health and economic viability cannot be separated indefinitely.”
Profit is not the sole purpose of stewardship. But neither can profitability simply be ignored. Income pays for fencing. It repairs water systems. It buys machinery. It pays workers. It maintains tracks. It allows trees to be planted and animals to be cared for. Financial resilience makes long-term ecological stewardship possible.
“Not: "How much can we extract from this landscape?" but: "How can this landscape support people while becoming healthier every year?" That is productive stewardship.”
Small farms are unlikely to defeat supermarkets by becoming smaller versions of supermarkets. Their opportunity lies elsewhere: quality, freshness, traceability, provenance, animal welfare, nutritional quality, environmental stewardship and a direct relationship between the person producing the food and the person eating it.
Healthy water supports living soil. Living soil supports healthy plants. Healthy plants support healthy animals. The entire chain influences the food reaching the customer.
A purchase from a well-stewarded local farm can help maintain an active rural landscape.
No farm exists in isolation. Water, wildlife and fire all move between properties. The resilience of Monchique cannot be achieved one isolated quinta at a time — stewardship must ultimately become collaborative.
No farm exists in isolation. Water moves between properties. Wildlife moves between properties. Fire moves between properties. The actions of one landowner can therefore affect many others.
Stewardship ultimately has to become collaborative. The resilience of Monchique cannot be achieved one isolated quinta at a time.
Historically, rural communities depended upon cooperation. People shared knowledge, labour, equipment and responsibility. As rural populations declined, many of these relationships weakened. Rebuilding them is part of landscape regeneration.
Healthy landscapes support healthy communities, and healthy communities are far better able to care for landscapes.
We believe demonstration is one of the most powerful ways to encourage change.
People do not necessarily need another lecture telling them how they should manage their land. They need opportunities to see ideas working. Raízes da Montanha gives us the opportunity to develop such a place.
We do not intend to say: "We have all the answers." We would rather say: "This is what we are trying. This is what has worked. This is what has failed. Come and see for yourself."
A demonstration farm should therefore demonstrate learning, not perfection.
We use a wider definition of success than yield and financial return alone. Scientific measurement and experienced observation should complement one another. Ultimately we return to one simple question: Is this landscape healthier than it was before?
“Ultimately we return to a simple question: Is this landscape healthier than it was before? If the answer continues to be yes, stewardship is moving in the right direction.”
Nature never stands still. Plants grow. Water moves. Trees mature. Animals change vegetation. Soil develops. Weather changes. Seasons turn. Stewardship must therefore be continuous.
A terrace rarely becomes neglected overnight. A water channel slowly blocks. Vegetation gradually accumulates. A track becomes progressively inaccessible. A tree begins to decline. A pipe develops a small leak. Individually these may appear insignificant. Together they can eventually transform the resilience of an entire property.
Regeneration comes from thousands of thoughtful actions accumulated over years.
Continuous stewardship does not mean constant interference. Sometimes the correct action is to do nothing. Observation itself is an act of stewardship. Nature is capable of performing an extraordinary amount of work when given the conditions to do so. The steward must learn when to intervene, when to assist and when to stand back.
The Monchique Stewardship System can ultimately be reduced to a continuing cycle.
Read the landscape. Watch the water, soil, plants, animals, trees, wildlife and weather.
Ask why something is happening before attempting to change it. Look for relationships rather than isolated symptoms.
Intervene only where there is a clear purpose. Use the least harmful intervention capable of achieving the desired outcome.
Look at what changed. Use scientific measurements where useful and careful observation everywhere.
Keep what works. Change what does not. Accept mistakes as part of learning.
Because the landscape has changed. And so have we.
The Monchique Stewardship System is not a destination. It is a way of thinking about our relationship with land.
Each forms part of a much larger living system. The steward's responsibility is to understand those relationships and strengthen them wherever possible.
We will make mistakes. We will change our minds. New knowledge will challenge old assumptions. The climate will change. Our own circumstances will change. The landscape itself will change. The System must therefore be capable of changing too.
“Leave the living system stronger than you found it. That is the practice of stewardship. That is the responsibility we have accepted at Quinta Picapau and Raízes da Montanha. And that is the continuing purpose of the Monchique Stewardship System.”