I was out and about on my rounds, following a ribbon road out of Central Lake, when I saw a comical bird conference going on in a bare tree. Pull over, put ‘er in park, hop out. Every time I managed to get them in focus, the birds exploded into the sky as if the tree had sneezed. Then they flew off to another tree across the road and settled there to snicker at me.
The worst part was that the air was perfumed with a Rural Aroma, and the longer I stood there, the more my eyes watered. I immediately assumed two things: that the birds were pestiferous starlings, and that the Rural Aroma was cow manure, albeit the worst cow manure I’d ever smelled. Just behind me, as I struggled to immortalize the starlings, someone was hauling something away from the cow barn. I spared a charitable thought for the guy. I could get back in the car and escape. The die for his day was cast in a different pattern.
Off to King’s, where there are still fresh apples to be had. It smelled heavenly in there. I bought a half bushel of Macs. I found an astonishing bargain in recycled plastic bins and bought two. If my clever plan for these things works out I’ll show it to you. Meanwhile, you can come up with your own bright ideas.
Mike Berst appeared as I was checking out and said, Here is a free treat! I was deeply touched, assuming it was because of something wonderful I’d written, but no. Anyone can have this excellent treat! The package of four one-ounce cherry shots will make four 8-oz. glasses of Montmorency tart cherry juice. I don’t see how you can go wrong.
I told Mike about the odiferous photo shoot, and he laughed. That was probably our turkey litter. See, there I go, jumping to conclusions again. If you go back up to that tractor picture, you will see an orchard off in the distance. And in that orchard turkey “litter” is spread thicker than a demagogue’s dissimulations. I hereby apologize to the cows.
So the lesson I am taking away from this day is, first, to ascertain what, precisely, is stinking up the joint, and second, to keep in mind Betsy King’s cheerful sign:
Torch Lake Views 
P.j. grath
January 10, 2011
There’s another lesson there, too, I think–something about how the stinky turkey litter will bring forth sweetness in time.
Gerry
January 10, 2011
You put me in mind of the little optimist who went to work with a will, cleaning out a filthy stable. “There’s gotta be a pony in here someplace!” he said.
Anna
January 10, 2011
“…the birds exploded into the sky as if the tree had sneezed.” Oh, that’s good! Love it! LOL So the nasty odor was turkey litter. Well, chicken litter stinks so I can image turkey litter can be potent. I really like road and the red barn farmstead. Lovely! I never tasted Montmorency tart cherry juice or any kind of tart cherry juice. I wonder if it hurts the jaws to drink it. 🙂
Gerry
January 10, 2011
Oddly enough, my memories of the chicken house are pretty positive. But the turkey poop is something else again. Whew!!!!
We must do something about the lamentable lack of tart cherry juice in Kansas. When I visit the Missouri-Kansas borderlands on my little research trip I will bring some to the parched prairies.
Molly
January 10, 2011
When I was in jr high and high school we lived across the road from a hog farm. We called it Fresh Country Air (as in a breath of…). I like Rural Aroma, too.
Gerry
January 11, 2011
Oh my. There is an industrial hog farm/CAFO at some distance from a beach on Lake Huron. When the wind shifts, the Fresh Country Air has been known to clear the beach in an instant. I suppose it is true that what does not kill us makes us strong.
Karma
January 10, 2011
Oh my! I unfortunately know that exact aroma to which you refer. Right here in the thoroughly suburban town where I grew up, there was a turkey farm right next door to the high school. Going outside for P.E. classes in the morning was particularly odiferous.
Gerry
January 11, 2011
Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, what geniuses decided to put the school there? And why?
At least the turkey litter application in the orchard only smells for a few days. Then the odor dissipates. The Cowboy, of course, thinks it’s wonderful.
Scott Thomas Photography
January 11, 2011
A wonderful post, Gerry! Like how you pulled it all together with the sign. I used to go past a turkey farm when visiting friends awhile back. They do stink up the place. Hard to believe they taste so good later on.
Gerry
January 11, 2011
Hi Scott! I’m glad you enjoyed our little excursion, turkey litter and all. Farming, even at its most sustainable and organic, is not for the fainthearted. It’s almost as hard as raising children.
flandrumhill
January 12, 2011
Gerry, here are my disconnected comments:
That smell must have been pretty bad if your eyes were watering. I’ve only ever had that happen to me around the sheep stalls at the Royal Winter Fair.
Those stand up trash bags look so neat and simple. Why do designers make things more complicated than need be?
I remember Donny Osmond singing that One Bad Apple song. It was long ago but I can still hear him singing it in my head.
Gerry
January 12, 2011
Sheep and turkeys probably have some disgusting habits in common. We won’t go there.
The stand up trash bags weren’t exactly designed for that purpose–they’re some kind of container King Orchards used and then had to discard or–TA-DAH!–re-use. I love re-using things. Nothing so conserving as using something that already exists.