The Nature Institute
While I was living in Wisconsin, there were countless mornings and afternoons when I drove a truck up and down, back and forth, hauling manure from a conventional dairy operation.
The first time I visited the dairy after driving through endless fields of genetically modified corn and soy, I parked on the driveway of the farmhouse. Red and pink geraniums greeted me on the windowsill. Halved oak barrels, filled with flowers, delineated parts of the driveway, and the air was filled by the mooing of the heifers, kept in the barn behind the house.
Crossing the road toward the main barn, which looked more like a warehouse, I again was met by flowery windowsills. Now it was the