Call For Proposals

Sustainability – what does it really mean? How do we know? Aprovecho is committed to understanding social and ecological systems – specifically resilient, diverse and equitable systems. Aprovecho invites research proposals pertaining to novel or traditional techniques, unique questions or lines of inquiry relevant to sustainability.  Read more…


Since 1981, Aprovecho and Aprovecho alumni have published a variety of research and how-to articles on topics ranging from fuel-efficient wood burning stoves to alternatives to aerial herbicide spraying.  To view a list of currently available publications go HERE.

Recent Articles at Glance

The New Threat: Aerial Herbicide Spraying

By Bradley Tschirgi and Emily Sessoms

This last summer at Aprovecho, the local logging company, which is our neighbor, aerially sprayed near our area.  After thirty years of working fervently on Aprovecho’s mission to restore the watershed and fertility, a new obstacle was placed before us: potential contamination of the water that runs through our property with harmful and toxic chemicals.  This was the first time this logging company has aerially sprayed within institutional memory. Prior to this, it was always done on foot with localized, calculated, and targeted manual spraying.  Mass aerial spraying is the technique promoted by its new forestry manager who took over this year. READ MORE HERE.

A Tale of Two Forests

By Abel Kloster, Director of the Permaculture Design Program at Aprovecho and Co-Director of Resilience Permaculture Design, LLC.

To restore the land one must live and work in a place.  The place will welcome whomever approaches it with respect and attention.  To work in a place is to bond to a place: people who work together in a place become a community, in time grows a culture.

– Gary Snyder

Sitting in my kitchen this morning, from my window I see ridge after ridge of young forest appearing to my eye in crenellations of dark and light green.  Mostly all douglas fir and all younger than 60 years.  A few large old trees remain on ridge tops, holdouts from an era when the companies left seed trees, sentinels of scale, a reminder of what the forest can achieve in size.   Angled planes cut through the contours of the rolling hills where property boundaries determine harvest edges.  Some patches of forest are bare, recently cut plots, due to be replanted this winter or next, the plantings sandwiched between herbicide treatments (ground crews with backpack on even terrain and helicopters with spray booms on the steeps).  Other patches are 15 years old, marked due for thinning, the douglas fir thick as a brush, the understory devoid of vegetation.  Other units 40 years old or more, marked due for clearcut, even aged douglas fir with 40% crown cover, vegetation in the understory just recently taken hold and reaching for the canopy. READ MORE HERE.

Beyond the War on Invasive Species: A Permaculture Approach to Ecosystem Restoration

Find it on Amazon here!

By Tao Orion

If there’s one thing I’ve learned after years of living and working at Aprovecho, it’s that people are searching for and implementing ways of life that provide more meaning, connection, laughter, and integration with the world that sustains us. They come from all over the world to experience a slice of life that is different from the normal and expected narrative of modern industrial capitalist culture. Experiencing this yearning from the many wonderful people I’ve come to know over the years helped inspire me to write my book Beyond the War on Invasive Species: A Permaculture Approach to Ecosystem Restoration. READ MORE HERE.

A River Runs Again: India’s Natural World in Crisis, from the Barren Cliffs of Rajasthan to the Farmlands of Karnataka

Find it on Amazon here!


All my life I have traveled to India to visit my father’s family in Chennai, on the shores of the Bay of Bengal. On each trip to, I gathered impressions. There were the seeds of the mehindi plant whose leaves an aunt ground into a paste to decorate my hands for a cousin’s wedding when I was ten. There were ones that grew into the limes I plucked from an uncle’s front yard in Alwarpet to make fresh juice at his house when I was thirteen. And there were those from the neem tree whose upper branches my grandmother reached for from her balcony and used to craft me a toothbrush when I was nineteen. Maybe it was these seeds that planted in me a desire to leave the race of the upwardly mobile Northeast where I was raised and landed me at the end of a dirt road in Oregon by the time I was twenty-six. READ MORE HERE.