The Orchard That Refuses to Obey: Buzz Ferver’s Living Tapestry
Some people farm to feed people. Some farm to build a business. And then there are folks like Buzz Ferver—people who farm because they are irresistibly, unreasonably, and maybe even a little obsessively drawn to trees and the relentless pursuit of figuring them out. Buzz doesn’t just grow trees; he knows them, like an old friend whose quirks and moods you’ve spent a lifetime unraveling. His orchard at Perfect Circle Farm in Berlin, Vermont, isn’t some rigid, regimented grid. It’s a living, breathing system, shaped not by rules but by rhythm—by the organic curves of growth, decay, and renewal.
Visiting Buzz isn’t like stepping onto a farm. It’s stepping into a philosophy—one built from decades of dirt-under-the-nails experience in horticulture, compost science, and ecosystem design. He’s spent a lifetime knee-deep in fungal-dominant compost, coaxing trees to thrive in places they were never meant to, and proving that the worst soil can still tell a good story. He’s killed more nut trees than most of us will ever plant, all in the relentless pursuit of hardiness, resilience, and adaptation. His work is art, and like all great artists, he is both student and master of his craft.
On a crisp and windy Sunday morning, I trudged onto Perfect Circle Farm with my family in tow, no real expectations other than to learn more about chestnuts, walnuts, and the nursery business. Buzz met me with a simple question—"What are you here for?" I told him I was new to all this, that there was plenty of information out there but never quite the right information. He took that to heart and, without hesitation, launched into a full tour of his world.
And what a world it is. Buzz has forgotten more about trees than I will probably ever know. He has this near-superhuman ability to remember every tree, which one’s thriving, which one’s struggling, which one he’s already decided to sacrifice for the greater good of the soil. His pride was palpable as he showed me the Hong Kong chestnut, somehow holding its own in what might be the worst spot on Earth for it—poor-draining, frost-ridden, compacted soil from an old hayfield. Most people would call that land a lost cause. Buzz calls it an experiment.
Everywhere I looked, there was this loose but undeniable design—thousands of trees planted and, when necessary, ripped out and returned to the soil. His dedication to finding the perfect Zone 4 persimmon is a saga in itself, with only one mother tree left standing after years of trial and error. And yet, you can tell he loves the chase.
Buzz is a rebel, a designer, a scientist, and an artist all rolled into one. I left that day with my head spinning, my brain full, and a whole new perspective on what it means to work with nature instead of trying to control it. And if there’s one thing I’ll carry forward from that visit, it’s this: Straight lines be damned.