Researchers at the University of Delaware have found that planting trees around poultry farms has many benefits (Photo courtesy of the USDA)
As suburbs are built closer to
farms, there are sometimes complaints
about the odors. Researchers are now
working to smooth things out between
farmers and their new neighbors. Jessi
Ziegler has the story on one
of the simple solutions they found:
Transcript
As suburbs are built closer to
farms, there are sometimes complaints
about the odors. Researchers are now
working to smooth things out between
farmers and their new neighbors. Jessi
Ziegler has the story on one
of the simple solutions they found:
If you’ve ever driven by a chicken farm, you know the
smell can get pretty bad.
So, imagine living by one, and smelling it every single day.
Well, researchers may have come up with a solution –
trees.
Planting a few rows of trees around a farm can do all sorts
of good.
They capture dust and ammonia. And they block noise
and odor.
Also, they make the farm look a lot prettier. Which,
researcher George Malone says, can make a big difference.
“There’s been other studies to indicate that attractive
farms, statistically, have less odor than unattractive farms.
Perception is reality of what we deal with.”
And the perception is, the better you think a farm looks,
the better you think it smells.
For The Environment Report, this is Jessi Ziegler.
John Harnois raises Narragansett turkeys, one of the so-called heritage breeds. He also raises a few Bourbon Reds, another heritage breed. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
Many heritage turkey breeds tend to be closer in appearance to wild turkeys than the most common commercial turkey breed, the Broad-breasted White. The Broad-breasted Whites have been bred to have white feathers, so there won't be dark marks left behind when the birds are plucked. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
The tom turkeys strut their stuff for the hens... who appear to be not particularly interested. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
John Harnois gobbles to the turkeys and the turkeys respond in unison.
(Photo by Rebecca Williams)
A male Narragansett in living color. Turkeys are native to North America.
They've been transported across the Atlantic Ocean several times, from Mexico to Europe... from Europe to America... as turkeys were domesticated, crossed with wild turkeys, and new varieties were developed. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
The type of turkey you buy for your big holiday feast isn’t always an easy decision. You can choose the usual supermarket bird, or you can get a kosher turkey, or one that’s been fed only organic feed. You can also buy a heritage turkey that’s got a little wilder history. Rebecca Williams has the story of farmers who are trying to keep these older turkey breeds from going extinct:
Transcript
The type of turkey you buy for your big holiday feast isn’t always an easy decision. You can choose the usual supermarket bird, or you can get a kosher turkey, or one that’s been fed only organic feed. You can also buy a heritage turkey that’s got a little wilder history. Rebecca Williams has the story of farmers who are trying to keep these older turkey breeds from going extinct:
John Harnois talks turkey.
“The turkeys pip, they bark, they gobble, (Harnois makes gobbling sound and turkeys respond in unison).”
He’s got a yard full of turkeys, mostly males. They’re trying to look all big and macho as they strut around in front of the hens. These turkeys are Narragansetts, one of the so-called heritage breeds.
“They’re old time turkeys, much closer to wild. They don’t have the broad breasts, so proportionally for eating (turkeys gobble, Harnois laughs), they have more dark meat to white meat.”
People who’ve tasted a heritage turkey say the flavor is stronger too. Sara Dickerman is the food editor for Seattle Magazine. She taste tested different types of turkeys, from the Butterball brand, to kosher, to heritage.
“When you taste one of these heritage breeds you’re getting more of a… it begins to taste more like a distinct meat, and I’m afraid our vocabulary is so ill suited to describing it, except that it tastes meatier, it tastes more intensely, and it just has a resonance that you’ll never get in a Butterball.”
Dickerman says still, you’ve got to be pretty committed to buy a heritage turkey. They can cost upwards of $100.
Taste and cost aren’t the only things that set heritage turkeys apart from the turkeys you find in the grocery store. Your common grocery store turkey is a breed called the Broad-breasted White. These turkeys have been bred over the years to produce a lot of meat in a short period of time. As a result, they’re large breasted birds with short little legs.
John Harnois says that means they can’t mate naturally.
“One of the things about heritage birds is they’re small enough to mate as opposed to the broad-breasteds which is artificial insemination. With that big breast they just can’t do the deed.”
But even though heritage turkeys can mate naturally, they haven’t been doing so well on their own.
“These birds, the heritage breeds, were real close to dying out. It’s funny, you gotta eat ’em to keep ’em going. To keep their genetics in the gene pool, there has to be a market for them.”
That’s where the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy stepped in. It’s a non-profit group trying to keep rare breeds from going extinct. Marjorie Bender is the group’s research manager. She says just three companies own the rights to the commercial turkey breeds.
“And they’re all very, very closely related and it’s that narrow genetic pool that has been of particular concern to us, and what makes the conservation of these other lines of turkeys and these other varieties of turkeys so important.”
Bender’s group is encouraging farmers to raise rare turkeys so there will be a larger genetic pool of the birds. And they’re helping to market the turkeys. Bender says now, there are more of these heritage turkeys than there were a few years ago.
“In terms of the breeds themselves, they’re not out of the woods, in terms of the farmers and the market. It’s so young that many farmers are really investing capital in them to make this a viable option, but they are making some money off the birds, otherwise they wouldn’t be doing it.”
(turkeys gobbling in background)
John Harnois says he is earning money from his heritage turkeys, but it’s not easy money. Heritage turkeys cost a lot to raise, and it takes longer to get them to market weight. And unlike the commercial turkeys, the heritage birds can fly the coop.
“You’re chasing them, and it’s dark out, and you don’t know if you’re going through poison ivy, if you’ve got shorts on you’ve gotta change your pants to long pants… it’s a pain.”
But he says the late night chases and extra turkey TLC are worth it.
“When there’s no more Narragansetts the gene line is done. You can never pull on that. You don’t want everything being the same, and if you only have one thing and something happens to it, there’s no more. Where are the turkeys going to come from?”
Harnois says he feels like it’s his job to make sure there will always be plenty of different kinds of gobblers to go around.
John Harnois raises Narragansett turkeys, one of the so-called heritage breeds. He also raises a few Bourbon Reds, another heritage breed. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
Many heritage turkey breeds tend to be closer in appearance to wild turkeys than the most common commercial turkey breed, the Broad-breasted White. The Broad-breasted Whites have been bred to have white feathers, so there won't be dark marks left behind when the birds are plucked. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
The tom turkeys strut their stuff for the hens... who appear to be not particularly interested. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
John Harnois gobbles to the turkeys and the turkeys respond in unison.
(Photo by Rebecca Williams)
A male Narragansett in living color. Turkeys are native to North America.
They've been transported across the Atlantic Ocean several times, from Mexico to Europe... from Europe to America... as turkeys were domesticated, crossed with wild turkeys, and new varieties were developed. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)
The type of turkey you buy for your big holiday feast isn’t always an easy decision. You can choose the usual supermarket bird, or you can get a kosher turkey, or one that’s been fed only organic feed. You can also buy a heritage turkey that’s got a little wilder history. Rebecca Williams has the story of farmers who are trying to keep these older turkey breeds from going extinct:
Transcript
The type of turkey you buy for your big holiday feast isn’t always an easy decision. You can choose the usual supermarket bird, or you can get a kosher turkey, or one that’s been fed only organic feed. You can also buy a heritage turkey that’s got a little wilder history. Rebecca Williams has the story of farmers who are trying to keep these older turkey breeds from going extinct:
John Harnois talks turkey.
“The turkeys pip, they bark, they gobble, (Harnois makes gobbling sound and turkeys respond in unison).”
He’s got a yard full of turkeys, mostly males. They’re trying to look all big and macho as they strut around in front of the hens. These turkeys are Narragansetts, one of the so-called heritage breeds.
“They’re old time turkeys, much closer to wild. They don’t have the broad breasts, so proportionally for eating (turkeys gobble, Harnois laughs), they have more dark meat to white meat.”
People who’ve tasted a heritage turkey say the flavor is stronger too. Sara Dickerman is the food editor for Seattle Magazine. She taste tested different types of turkeys, from the Butterball brand, to kosher, to heritage.
“When you taste one of these heritage breeds you’re getting more of a… it begins to taste more like a distinct meat, and I’m afraid our vocabulary is so ill suited to describing it, except that it tastes meatier, it tastes more intensely, and it just has a resonance that you’ll never get in a Butterball.”
Dickerman says still, you’ve got to be pretty committed to buy a heritage turkey. They can cost upwards of $100.
Taste and cost aren’t the only things that set heritage turkeys apart from the turkeys you find in the grocery store. Your common grocery store turkey is a breed called the Broad-breasted White. These turkeys have been bred over the years to produce a lot of meat in a short period of time. As a result, they’re large breasted birds with short little legs.
John Harnois says that means they can’t mate naturally.
“One of the things about heritage birds is they’re small enough to mate as opposed to the broad-breasteds which is artificial insemination. With that big breast they just can’t do the deed.”
But even though heritage turkeys can mate naturally, they haven’t been doing so well on their own.
“These birds, the heritage breeds, were real close to dying out. It’s funny, you gotta eat ’em to keep ’em going. To keep their genetics in the gene pool, there has to be a market for them.”
That’s where the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy stepped in. It’s a non-profit group trying to keep rare breeds from going extinct. Marjorie Bender is the group’s research manager. She says just three companies own the rights to the commercial turkey breeds.
“And they’re all very, very closely related and it’s that narrow genetic pool that has been of particular concern to us, and what makes the conservation of these other lines of turkeys and these other varieties of turkeys so important.”
Bender’s group is encouraging farmers to raise rare turkeys so there will be a larger genetic pool of the birds. And they’re helping to market the turkeys. Bender says now, there are more of these heritage turkeys than there were a few years ago.
“In terms of the breeds themselves, they’re not out of the woods, in terms of the farmers and the market. It’s so young that many farmers are really investing capital in them to make this a viable option, but they are making some money off the birds, otherwise they wouldn’t be doing it.”
(turkeys gobbling in background)
John Harnois says he is earning money from his heritage turkeys, but it’s not easy money. Heritage turkeys cost a lot to raise, and it takes longer to get them to market weight. And unlike the commercial turkeys, the heritage birds can fly the coop.
“You’re chasing them, and it’s dark out, and you don’t know if you’re going through poison ivy, if you’ve got shorts on you’ve gotta change your pants to long pants… it’s a pain.”
But he says the late night chases and extra turkey TLC are worth it.
“When there’s no more Narragansetts the gene line is done. You can never pull on that. You don’t want everything being the same, and if you only have one thing and something happens to it, there’s no more. Where are the turkeys going to come from?”
Harnois says he feels like it’s his job to make sure there will always be plenty of different kinds of gobblers to go around.
Developers are feeling encouraged by last month’s US Supreme
Court ruling on wetlands. The High Court was deciding on which wetlands deserve protection under the Clean Water Act. Some say it’s more likely
they’ll get their building permits now. Defenders of the Clean Water Act
think those high hopes are premature. The GLRC’s Tracy Samilton takes
us to the wetland where the fight began:
Transcript
Developers are feeling encouraged by last month’s U.S. Supreme Court
ruling on which wetlands deserve protection from development under the
Clean Water Act. Some say it’s more likely they’ll get their building
permits now. Defenders of the Clean Water Act think those high hopes are
premature. The GLRC’s Tracy Samilton takes us to the wetland where the
fight began.
Wetlands are supposed to be wet, right? Certainly wetter than this mucky little forest in
a township in Southeast Michigan, surrounded by subdivisions and strip malls. Tim Stoepker
leads the way through battalions of attacking mosquitoes. He points at a big puddle:
“Basically, you have a forested wetland here, with no diversity of plant life because you have
such a thick canopy of trees and you don’t typically have all your wetland,
typical wetland plants on the interior here because of that and because there’s no standing
water, you don’t have any of your aquatic species.”
Stoepker’s business suit trousers are getting streaked with mud but he keeps going. Next stop
is a drainage ditch at the edge of the property. It’s pretty dry:
“Now, if we were to come out here in August or July, I mean, that ditch would even be, there
would be nothing in that ditch.”
Stoepker has represented landowner Keith Carabell since the mid-1980s. Carabell was denied a permit
to build senior condos on his property. He appealed it all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Stoker thinks if the nine Supreme Court Justices had seen this ditch in person, last month’s
wetlands decision would have been different. A majority would have ruled that the test for
Clean Water Act protection is permanent surface water flowing into a navigable water. Even so,
he’s optimistic. Five Justices reaffirmed that the Clean Water Act pertains only to wetlands
with a “significant nexus,” or connection, to navigable waters. He says that’s not the case
here:
“It’s hydrologically isolated from receiving and sending waters.”
But the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers sees it differently. The Corps is the agency that decides
if a wetland falls under the Clean Water Act. If so, it then issues or denies building permits.
The Corps told field officers not to talk to reporters about this or any case pending guidance
from headquarters. But a source familiar with Corps regulations says water from this wetland
does flow into the ditch. From there, it empties into a drain, which dumps into a stream and
then leads to Lake St. Clair a mile away, one of the most polluted bodies of water in the Great
Lakes region. The source says the wetland also connects to the drain on another side of the
property, and it will meet the significant nexus test when the case goes back to the lower
court.
Environmentalists like Jim Murphy of the National Wildlife Federation hope that’s true.
Murphy says small wetlands like this one need to be protected, despite their lack of surface
water and showy aquatic species:
“I think we make a mistake when we just feel that the only thing we need to protect are
charismatic wetlands, for a number of reasons. For one, even wetlands that don’t necessarily look that pretty
that pretty are oftentimes performing enormous functions, whether it be habitat, flood control,
water filtration….”
All functions that Army Corps of Engineers mentioned when it denied a permit in this case.
Murphy says the looming question now is, how will the agency react to the ruling? If they pull
back, he thinks we will lose wetlands at a much quicker pace. Or the Corps could interpret
the ruling as broadly as possible:
“We feel that if the Corps is willing to stand firm and be aggressive, that they can still
maintain protection for a good number of waters.”
Murphy thinks even at best, the Supreme Court ruling will encourage even more developers like
Keith Carabell to challenge permit denials in court. That may be true, but Tom Stoepker, the
attorney for Keith Caraball, says all that most developers want are more thoughtful decisions
from the Corps, and they want the Corps to back off from places it ought not to be. He says
that includes this wetland where anyone can see the water in it isn’t going anywhere.
Aldo Leopold found fame by writing "A Sand County Almanac"... but even sixty years after his death, scholars say his theories about living in harmony with nature are influencing conservation practices today. (Photo courtesy of the Aldo Leopold Foundation Archives)
Aldo Leopold writing near the building he called "the shack" with dog Flick in 1942. (Photo courtesy of the Aldo Leopold Foundation Archives)
If you feel you just cannot live without wild things, you have something in common with a conservationist who’s still influencing conservation practices almost sixty years after his death. Scholars say the theories of Aldo Leopold continue to help shape wildlife management and land preservation, especially in the Upper Midwest. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chuck Quirmbach reports:
Transcript
If you feel you just cannot live without wild things, you have something in
common with a conservationist who’s still influencing conservation practices almost
sixty years after his death. Scholars say the theories of Aldo Leopold continue to help shape wildlife management and land preservation, especially in the Upper Midwest. The Great
Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chuck Quirmbach reports:
Aldo Leopold is probably best known for writing A Sand
County Almanac. That’s a collection of essays about finding harmony
with nature. His ideas about preservation changed while working for the
Forest
Service in the southwestern U.S. Rick Stel of the Aldo Leopold
Foundation
says one day in the early 1900’s Leopold shot a wolf thought to be a threat
to
cattle. The female had pups with her.
“And he says he got there in time to see the
fierce green fire die in her eyes… and it was at this time he realized
we’re going about this in the wrong way… we really need to look at all
creatures and everything as a community.”
Leopold’s epiphany led to writings that won him national attention. he
eventually moved to Madison, Wisconsin – first to work in forest
research and later at the University of Wisconsin. There, he taught the
nation’s
first course in game management.
In 1935, he bought an abandoned farm in the sandy floodplain of the
Wisconsin River. It became the inspiration for many of the essays in A Sand County
Almanac.
(sound of unlocking door)
Most tours of the site start at an old chicken coop that was the only
building left when Leopold bought the place and is the only structure
now. The shack, as Leopold called it, has no electricity or furnace.
(sound of fire)
On chilly days tour guides light a fire in the fireplace and talk about
the ideas Leopold developed while visiting the shack with his family.
The Leopold Foundation’s Buddy Huffaker says Leopold worried about
becoming disconnected from nature.
“His February essay talks about the two spiritual dangers of
not owning a farm. One is to assume food comes from a grocery store, and the second is that heat comes from a furnace.”
Outside the shack Leopold and his family worked to return the land to its
pre-agricultural state. They planted thousands of pine trees. The also undertook
one of
the first prairie restorations. The Leopold family spent a lot of time
discussing how
people were damaging the environment.
(sound of brushing)
About one hundred yards from the shack Buddy Huffaker brushes off
a plaque that’s set in the ground. at this spot, Leopold sawed apart a
lightning-damaged oak tree that he called the good oak. He wrote
about the experience in a famous essay that Huffaker says is really
about natural history.
“As he and his family saw through the growth rings of the oak, he
goes back in time to see how people have disregarded other natural
elements in the landscape – the decimation of turkeys and other
species that we hunted into extinction locally or entirely.”
But turkeys, sandhill cranes and a few others species have come
back–in part because of Leopold’s conservation ethic. Now his
followers are trying to protect more things.
To spread Leopold’s message some groups have started sponsoring
readings of Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac. At a library in Lake
Geneva
Wisconsin Jim Celano reads from the essay about the good oak.
“Now our saw bites into the 1920’s the Babbittian
decade when everything grew bigger and better in heedlessness and
arrogance – until 1929 when stock markets crumpled. If the oak heard them
fall, its
wood gives no sign.”
Celano is a former commerical real estate developer who now heads
a land conservancy group. He says he’s trying to convey Leopold’s
ideas to other developers.
“That we’re not here to say no to development… but to ask
they be sensitive to what they’re developing. And when you step on
their parcel, after their development is done, that the first thing you
notice is what they’re preserved and protected.”
(sound of woodpecker and traffic)
But even Aldo Leopold’s famous land around the shack is not immune
from modern threats. As a woodpecker hammers overhead, the noise
from a nearby interstate highway intrudes into the scenery. The
Leopold foundation’s Buddy Huffaker says Aldo Leopold knew the future
would bring new threats to the natural world.
“But I think that’s Leopold’s challenge to us. He
understood progress was going to continue. He just wanted us to
contemplate what we wanted that progress to be. And how far it
should go.”
And with sales of A Sand County Almanac bigger now than when it was
published in 1949, it ‘s a future Aldo Leopold might be helping to
shape.
Poaching is an age-old problem for state game wardens and other conservation workers. Officials have tried a variety of methods to catch people hunting illegally. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Michael Leland tells us in one state, officials are taking a somewhat unusual approach. They’re getting help from a new robotic turkey:
Transcript
Poaching is an age-old problem for state game wardens and other conservation workers.
Officials have tried a variety of methods to catch people hunting illegally. The Great Lakes
Radio Consortium’s Michael Leland tells us in one state, officials are taking a somewhat unusual
approach. They’re getting help from a new robotic turkey:
It looks real enough. In fact, the so-called Robo-Turkey is an eastern tom turkey prepared by a
taxidermist, who put moving parts from a model airplane inside. Officers from Michigan’s
Department of Natural Resources control the bird from up to 100-yards away. Lieutenant Dave
Davis says they use it to catch people hunting out-of-season, trespassing, or shooting birds from
their vehicles.
“We’ll set up the decoy where the problem is, then we will do surveillance on it. We don’t just
leave it there unattended. Somebody’s gotta be watching it. Then we’ll wait for somebody to come
and shoot it, basically. It’s not rocket science.”
A local chapter of the National Wildlife Turkey Federation donated this bird, which is one of
several in use across Northern Michigan. The decoys have led to charges against a few poachers
this year, who can face up to $500 in fines. Lieutenant Davis says poachers who shoot the Robo-
Turkey get off easy. Shooting a real turkey illegally can mean a $1,500 fine and five days in jail.
For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Michael Leland.
Manure management is a messy business. While farmers usually spread
manure as fertilizer, some are struggling to find enough land and can be
left with the costly expense of disposal. Now turkey farmers in central
Minnesota want to build the country’s first manure fueled power plant.
They say the plant will be a financial boost to farmers and help ease
the public’s concern over odor and pollution. The Great Lakes Radio
Consortium’s Kathryn Herzog reports:
Researchers at the University of Delaware have found that planting trees around poultry farms has many benefits (Photo courtesy of the USDA)
