Treasured genes
The domestication of animals is one of the hallmarks of human civilization. One imagines early Paleolithic man contemplating yet another day of grubbing up fibrous roots with a pointy stick or preparing to do battle with some huge dangerous steak-on-a-hoof and saying to him- or herself, “Ya’ know.
There has got to be a better way.” Then as now, there were a very few who were less whiners and more doers. They took action to bring valued plants and animals in from the cold, so to speak. Over the millennia, we progressively pushed the species into breeds and varieties that did the things we wanted them to do … more meat, more eggs, more leaves, more fruit. We selected for calm companionship, like dogs from wolves, and for their ability to carry our burdens for us, like the horse. And then there are cats, who worked out their own uneasy partnership in which they promise not to savage us in the night if we keep the food bowl filled and worship the ground on which they walk.
Our selections have been rather Faustian choices, sometimes to the detriment of traits selected by the rigors of life; natural selection over millions of years worked long before Johnny-Come-Lately humanoids first dropped from the trees. There are obvious examples where our meddling has gone too far or in a direction we did not foresee. We bred the sweet juiciness out of tomatoes to enable us to pick whole fields mechanically. We have poultry who grow so large, so fast, that their leg bones buckle under their weight. We insert genes into cells that enable their host to tolerate regular bathing in toxic chemicals.
Again, a few smart people started to think about what they were losing for what they gained. They started to think about preserving the old traits by preserving the old breeds and varieties. When you speak to the various venders at the Presque Isle Farmers’ Market, you will find that several of them choose to grow heirloom breeds and varieties, capturing the goodness from the past in selections that breed true. In fact, when you visit with “the grass fed beef people from Orchard Hill Farm” check out the picture on their display board of their first bull. If you pay any attention to our paleo past, your first thought will likely be, “Dear Lord! It is an auroch!” (founder species for modern cattle appearing in cave paintings about the time that modern humans were playing one-two-three-horse-n-goggle with Neanderthals to decide who got to pass on genes to us). If you speak with Stan and Gail Maynard about their Highland cattle, you quickly intuit that they are very pleased in the net result.
Stop by in the Aroostook Centre Mall parking lot on any Saturday morning between 8:30 a.m. and 1 p.m. for a visit and a purchase. Good things come to those who wait!
The Presque Isle Farmers’ Market contact person is Gail Maynard and her number is 498-8541 and email is orchhill@gmail.com.
