Stan and Gail Maynard, of Orchard Hill Farm in Woodland, produce grass-fed, organic beef on their own acreage and that of their neighbors.
The neighbors are delighted to have the Maynards’ handsome, hairy Scottish Highland cattle in their fields. In general, these animals are calm grass-munchers who don’t push fence or cause trouble. If you go to the field to visit, they just sort of stand there looking at you while you stand there looking at them. Other than keeping clear of the horns which spread outward from their skulls (more like a mitten-rack than a coat hook), they pose no threat to people. The animals part and reassemble behind Gail and Stan as they walk through the herd like they were wading through quiet water. As a clincher, a Scottish Highlander of any age and gender is terribly, terribly cute.
A moose calf or a bear cub is terribly, terribly cute, but you back off when you come upon one in the woods. You know Mama is not far away and her sense of humor is not improved by motherhood. Neither moose cow nor bear sow have anything over on a Highland cow when it comes to protecting her offspring from a perceived threat.
Stan and Gail are about as nice a couple of people as you are likely to meet; their neighbors and cattle usually agree. But when Stan arrives with his syringes, ear tags, and plans for a fast check to determine gender of a newborn calf, the formerly placid and calm Mama does not appreciate his interest. Fire comes from her eyes like the violin bow of the devil down in Georgia. She snuffs, snorts, stomps the ground, and throws her head as her horns sweep an arc like Poe’s pendulum. Her attitude infects the rest of the herd.
Thus far, the cattle have not mastered the latch on the tailgate, but they circle the truck and measure themselves against the height of the side of the pickup bed where Stan takes refuge with the calf. Until he can finish and lower the youngster over the side, they bellow and glare. Only reluctantly they accept the ransom paid and leave so Stan can drive out of the field.
By mid-summer, all will be forgiven and forgotten. Street gangs of calves will be exploring the field, racing in circles like pre-K’s on a field trip. The mothers will have their noses buried in the lush green grass. Stan and Gail will be back on their good side and therefore will be ignored. On Saturday mornings, then as now, they will wheel that truck with a trailer-mounted freezer into the Aroostook Centre Mall parking lot to sell beef to appreciative customers of the Presque Isle Farmers Market. Stop by to say “hello!”
The Presque Isle Farmers’ Market contact person Gail Maynard. Her phone number is 498-8541 and her email is orchhill@gmail.com.
