The store of manure at the nearby farm is only open 2 hours a week--on Saturday mornings from 10:30 to 12:30. This morning, even in the pouring rain, pick-up trucks of all descriptions stack up like airplanes circling to land. Or waiting for a piece of land, in this case.
Farmer Charlie rolls back and forth in his little yellow Bobcat, scooping a load from a pile the length of a football field and taller than a truck on steroids. (He raises organic beef cattle.) The first load plops into the bed of the truck. Back for a second load. Plop.
His customers this morning are dressed in raincoats and muck boots. Each person has a different tool--a rake or a shovel--to even out the load before she drives off.
I drive to the community garden and fork the entire load onto a potato patch. Earth returning to earth.