Here on Gold Shaw Farm, we've dabbled in a menagerie of agricultural ventures over the years. We've raised the lowing of cattle, the oinks of pigs, the contented quacks of ducks destined for both meat and eggs, and the honks of geese also bound for the table. We've even ventured into the niche market of selling fertilized duck and goose eggs, alongside the more conventional chicken and their daily bounty. But when you strip away the romanticism and look purely at the bottom line, factoring in both the hours invested and the revenue generated, one business stands head and shoulders above the rest – growing trees. Yes, you heard that right. In terms of profitability, the trees we cultivate on our farm have proven to be our most lucrative endeavor, laying the foundation for the very self-sustaining economy we've been striving to build.
Now, I can almost hear the collective scratching of heads. A self-sustaining economy built on trees? How does that even work? If I'm being completely honest, the intricacies of the broader US economy often elude me, let alone some sort of localized, self-sufficient model. But when I crunch the numbers – the income generated from our tree sales over the past few years against the time invested – it pencils out to an impressive $500 per hour. And the beauty of it? It doesn't demand sprawling acres or a hefty initial investment. My entire tree nursery operation, the engine of this surprisingly profitable enterprise, fits comfortably within about half an acre of space. If push came to shove, I could probably condense it even further. The core requirements for this tree-centric business are surprisingly straightforward: a knack for planning and long-term vision, consistent execution of specific tasks at crucial times of the year, a modicum of marketing and sales savvy, and, of course, a bit of know-how – which I intend to share with you throughout this very video.
Let me be clear: this isn't some thinly veiled attempt to peddle a get-rich-quick scheme, a pricey online course, or a subscription to my exclusive newsletter. The only book I've ever penned is a children's tale inspired by my dog and the farm. My motivation for creating this video stems from a genuine belief that the world needs more trees and, consequently, more people dedicated to growing them. If this video sparks that inspiration in even a few viewers, I'll consider it a success. It's worth noting, however, that I do earn a small amount of revenue from your viewership, so full disclosure there. My only request in return is that you watch this video in its entirety and, more importantly, use it as a springboard for your own research and business plan. What works for me, given my specific skills, market, and climate, may not be the ideal fit for you. Keep that in mind as we delve deeper.
"Good morning, large white farm dogs!" We have visitors joining us today for a glimpse into a different facet of Gold Shaw Farm – a tree farm tour. While we do indeed raise ducks, geese, chickens, cattle, pigs, and goats (you can see our waterfowl enjoying their morning dip in their water pools), today the focus is on our arboreal endeavors. This is Toby dog, and this is Abby dog, our ever-vigilant security detail, especially crucial during the summer months when our birds free-range 24/7, keeping the coyotes, bobcats, and foxes at bay. I'm just dropping off some tasty forage for the goats. Now, if you're considering a tree farm, my first piece of advice might seem counterintuitive: don't have goats. They are veritable tree-destroying machines, with an insatiable appetite for leaves, bark, and, well, pretty much any part of a tree. If you do have both goats and a tree farm, you'll need Fort Knox-level fencing to prevent their inevitable escape and subsequent arboreal annihilation.
One of the very first initiatives I undertook after purchasing this farm was to formulate a plan for establishing a permanent orchard, a diverse collection of fruit and nut trees to provide sustenance for us and potentially even our livestock. Even during the initial period when I was still commuting to the farm, I prioritized getting those trees in the ground after the first year of ownership. The wisdom passed down through generations of gardeners and farmers holds true: the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago, but the second best time is right now. So, to all you aspiring tree farmers out there, I wholeheartedly encourage you to heed that advice.
Here we have what I affectionately call the permaculture orchard, a design inspired by the work of Quebecois orchardist Stefan Sobkowiak. The core principle is the interplanting of diverse tree species, ensuring that no two trees of the same kind stand adjacent to one another. This strategy promotes greater orchard diversity and acts as a natural defense against a wide range of pests and diseases that might otherwise decimate a monoculture orchard. The dominant trees in this area these days are a mix of chestnut, mulberry, apple, and black locust. We have a scattering of other species like walnut and butternut, but the aforementioned quartet has proven to be the most successful for us here on the farm. As you walk down the rows, you'll notice a repeating pattern: an apple tree here, a chestnut tree there, followed by a black locust, and so on. It was actually the process of establishing this very orchard that first sent me down the fascinating rabbit hole of researching how to sprout my own trees. Many of the trees you see here were saplings I purchased seven years ago, and as anyone who has bought trees for planting can attest, they can be quite expensive. Fortuitously, I had a friend named Akiva Silver, a veritable guru of tree propagation, who possessed a wealth of unconventional and effective methods for sprouting trees. He generously shared his knowledge with me, and many of the techniques he taught me are what I'll be sharing with you today. My hope is that you'll not only adopt these methods but also pass them on to others, because, as I've said, I firmly believe the world needs more trees.
The trees I sell from my farm are what are known as bare-root trees. These aren't the large, mature specimens you might find at a big box store or garden center. Instead, they are essentially young saplings, often appearing as little more than sticks emerging from the ground. Here, for example, is a year-old black locust seedling that I'll likely be pulling up to give to someone. My tree business operates on a seasonal cycle. I typically start most of my seeds in the fall, around this time of year as I record this in November. Then, in the late spring, I transplant the sprouted seedlings into garden beds for further growth. They spend the entire summer maturing, reaching a size roughly comparable to this seedling here. Once they've attained that size, I carefully lift them from the ground, and that's when I typically package and ship them to customers. Another unique aspect of my tree business is that the majority of my clientele aren't even local; they're scattered across the northern United States. The beauty of bare-root trees is that they can be packaged appropriately and shipped relatively easily. Over the past few weeks, I've been in the thick of my shipping season, bundling these bare-root seedlings, wrapping their roots in a bit of plastic to prevent dehydration, adding a touch of moist sawdust, and then carefully boxing them for their journey to their new homes.
One of the truly remarkable aspects of my tree business is its profitability. This year, I anticipate clearing around $13,000 in revenue, and that's with only about 25 clients. It's not a high volume of individual sales, but my business model focuses on bulk orders. The minimum order for my bare-root trees is 25 seedlings. This bulk approach keeps my customer support hours low, as well as minimizing the time spent boxing and shipping individual orders. This efficiency is a key factor in achieving that $500 per hour earning rate. The time commitment for this business is surprisingly manageable. It's about an hour or two in the fall to initiate the seed starting process, a couple of hours in the spring to transplant the seedlings into garden beds, and only a few hours of maintenance throughout the summer, primarily involving watering and occasional weeding. The bulk of the work occurs at the end of the growing season, when I'm lifting the seedlings, packaging them, and handling the shipping. This low-intensity, consistent effort spread throughout the year is a significant advantage over businesses like raising cattle or poultry, which demand constant, daily labor that ultimately limits their profitability. While Gold Shaw Farm encompasses 160 acres, the permaculture orchard occupies a little under 10 acres, around 9.5 or so. You truly don't need vast expanses of land for this venture, as the majority of my growing operation fits within that half-acre space I mentioned earlier. I'll take you down to the lower part of the farm shortly to illustrate exactly what I mean.
But I know the first question many of you are pondering: "Hey Morgan, this all sounds fantastic, but where do I even begin to source my seeds?" Well, my friends, that's an excellent question, and I'm about to show you. Right here is a box containing chestnut seed that I'll be using to sprout over the next week or two. Now, I anticipate another question: where do these seeds come from? And here, I'm going to have to employ a bit of strategic secrecy. This is one of the few pieces of information I'll be gatekeeping in this video, and it's purely for self-preservation. If I were to divulge my source, I fear they would be inundated with orders, leaving none for me when it's time for my own resupply. I need my nuts, man, for a multitude of reasons! So, yes, the source remains confidential. But this box contains about 15 pounds of chestnut seed. To give you an idea of what they look like, here they are. I typically opt for the really large ones or seed-grade quality, which have a higher germination rate. This is what a chestnut looks like, and if I were to recommend a starting point for any type of seed, this would likely be my top pick, perhaps alongside apple, which we'll discuss momentarily. The reason I suggest chestnut and apple is the broader market appeal. Black locust, while valuable, caters to a more niche audience. Pretty much everyone understands the inherent value of a chestnut tree and an apple tree. Particularly for those involved in hunting, looking to enhance their property to attract deer, turkey, or even bear, apple and chestnut are phenomenal crops to begin with, and they are relatively easy to grow.
To initiate the chestnut seedling process, I essentially take these chestnuts and place them in a bucket of sand. I dampen the sand and then layer chestnuts and sand, chestnuts and sand, until the bucket is about two-thirds full. Then, around this time of year, just before the ground begins to freeze, I bury the entire bucket underground. I leave it there until around Memorial Day before exhuming my nascent chestnut seedlings. When I unearth those chestnut seeds, I typically find that the majority have sprouted, exhibiting a small root "tail" and the beginnings of a tiny tree forming. Once these little chestnut seeds have sprouted, you have a good indication of the number of trees you'll be able to grow that year. This is a significant reason why I wait until late spring and early summer before taking customer orders – I prefer not to sell inventory I don't yet possess. Furthermore, I grow a substantial number of seedlings to expand our own orchard here on the farm, and I don't want to shortchange our needs by over-selling to others. This bucket method tends to be less effective in warmer climates without a sufficiently cold winter. An alternative is to place your seeds in a bag in the refrigerator. Back when I lived in Washington DC, I employed this method. While it works, I don't believe it's as reliable as the outdoor burial method. You're more prone to issues like mold and fungal growth when sprouting seeds inside a refrigerator. Thus, I generally prefer the natural outdoor approach, but a refrigerator remains an acceptable option if space is limited or your climate is too mild. The germination rate with the bucket method for sprouting chestnut seedlings has been consistently high for me, ranging between 92 and 97% over the years – significantly better than the refrigerator method. When growing chestnuts, the biggest expense you'll likely encounter is the cost of the seed itself, which can be somewhat pricey. This is another reason for my slight reluctance to disclose my seed source. I actually procure my seeds from a variety of locations to ensure good genetic diversity for future seed production, as my long-term vision includes our own mature chestnut trees eventually producing seeds for sale to others. I'm aware that even mentioning this might give this whole endeavor a slightly pyramid-scheme-esque vibe, but I assure you, I wouldn't be sharing this information if I didn't genuinely believe it could be helpful, regardless of whether you purchase seedlings from me (I anticipate potentially selling seeds starting in 2026 or 2027).
If chestnuts prove elusive, another excellent starting crop is apple trees. Here in northern Vermont, apple trees thrive with remarkable vigor. Right here, you're looking at what will likely become about a thousand apple trees, emerging probably this spring. Interestingly, I don't even incur any expense for these seedlings. When we make apple cider here on the farm, we're left with a significant amount of pulp after pressing the apples. This pulp contains a lot of the fibrous material of the apple, but also, if you dig through it (and I'll do so in a moment, even though it's a bit frozen), you'll find countless tiny apple seeds. This mashed-up apple waste serves as a wonderful compost and fertilizer for initiating apple seedlings. And, as nature dictates, those seeds will sprout this spring, growing and growing until they become small bare-root seedlings like this one, which I can then carefully lift, ensuring minimal root damage, bundle, and box for shipping in late October when the trees enter dormancy. The timing of this entire process is very deliberate. Typically, most deciduous tree seedlings enter dormancy when daylight hours decrease and temperatures begin to drop. As the leaves die and fall (as you can see, most of these apple and pear trees have already shed their leaves for the season), the tree becomes dormant. This dormancy means that as long as the root ball remains intact, I can lift the tree from the ground and transplant it elsewhere on the farm if desired. When springtime arrives, it's ready to resume growth. This is why I don't sell trees during the summer months; fall is the optimal time for shipping and transplanting, making it easier for me to lift the trees and for the buyer to plant them successfully. Over the years, I've received frustrated emails from customers wanting to purchase trees in the summer, when they're ready to plant, but nature operates on its own schedule, and it's always best to align with it.
Now, one criticism I anticipate seeing in the comments is the well-known fact that apple seedlings rarely grow "true to seed." In other words, an apple seed will contain a mix of genetics that will likely prevent it from producing fruit identical to its parent. This is absolutely true. What I do is sell my apple seedlings as wild rootstock. This means it's a root system that will grow into an apple tree and should be quite hardy, but the specific type of apple it produces is largely a matter of chance. Sometimes it might yield wonderful eating apples, other times it might be better suited for cider, and occasionally it might be rather unpalatable. This is why I have trees like this one here. I grow these specifically for scion wood. Later this winter, I'll likely prune off this branch and graft it onto one of my apple seedlings. This grafting process ensures a specific variety. For example, this tree is a Northern Spy apple variety, so any growth above the graft on the seedling will produce those desirable Northern Spy apples. For most folks, rather than spending, say, $30 at a local garden center for a named apple variety, my customers typically spend five or six bucks for an apple seedling that will either produce perfectly acceptable apples for wildlife or serve as a blank canvas for their own grafting endeavors to create specific varieties.
In terms of nurturing these seedlings, for chestnuts, I typically transfer them from the initial sprouting bucket into seed beds. I've found that what works best are air-pruning beds – garden beds elevated about a foot off the ground with hardware cloth forming the base. This hardware cloth prevents the roots from growing too deep, making it much easier to lift the trees in the fall for shipping and sale. I generally employ the same air-pruning bed method for black locust seedlings. For the apple tree seedlings, I usually leave them in the ground right here and simply lift them in the fall. This area of the farm is where I rotate my various seed beds. For efficiency and labor-saving, I don't bother replanting the apples after they sprout; I find they thrive best by being left to their own devices, allowing nature to take its course, and then harvesting them in the fall. I rarely encounter problems with root breakage using this method, which is a potential risk with transplanting.
Another frequently asked question is about my marketing strategies. Again, my approach might differ from what works best for you. Primarily, by creating videos like this one, people discover my farm and then reach out via email through my website, eventually leading to the sale of tree seedlings. However, if I were starting from scratch and needed to market my tree seedlings, I would likely focus on a couple of key areas. Firstly, I'd utilize platforms like Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist. Secondly, I'd actively engage with local gardening and permaculture communities, as there's often a strong demand for affordable tree seedlings among individuals undertaking permaculture projects, gardening initiatives, or simply those wanting to grow their own food. Thirdly, I believe a significant market exists within local hunting and sportsman clubs – groups focused on deer and turkey hunting, in particular. Connecting with these groups can tap into landowners seeking to enhance their property for better hunting, and fruit and nut-bearing trees like apple and chestnut (which thrive in our Vermont climate) are excellent additions for attracting wildlife. For local sales, shipping is unnecessary. I would suggest simply bundling the seedlings and wrapping the roots in a slightly damp paper towel (not too wet!) or damp sawdust enclosed in a plastic bag (don't seal it airtight; allow for some air circulation). Trees packaged this way can typically be stored for about a week. My recommendation to clients upon receiving their trees is to dig a small temporary hole and plant the bundled seedlings until they are ready to plant them individually in their permanent locations, ideally within two to three weeks. This temporary planting helps them acclimate to their new environment. The US Postal Service offers a long, narrow box that is almost perfectly sized for tree seedlings. The seedlings I sell are usually under 24 inches long, so as long as your box meets those dimensions and isn't excessively bulky (avoiding extra shipping costs), it works quite well. My farm's shipping process allows for easy calculation of box size and weight based on the number of trees, and I simply pass that cost directly on to