For as long as I can remember — and I have lived a good long while — not a year has passed without hearing of angst regarding the local cherry crop. Mind you, I am not a cherry farmer, current cherry industry employee, or even have consumed a cherry product since that bowl of cherry salsa I ate last week.
It’s just that, in the considerable family of produce that our region’s farmers produce, cherries have always been the one we collectively worry about.
Early in the year, we all talk about frost descending on those tender buds before they even get going. We then ogle over the majesty of the spring bloom. This year’s bloom was as spectacular as it was early, even finishing before Mother’s Day. From there it’s a battle with a parade of pests and mold being monitored and sprayed all the way until we conduct an actual parade that culminates in a week-long party to celebrate the arrival of those picky little cherries.
An entire week’s celebration is still not enough. We have to fret about the wind, the rain, the temperature and more. Even too many cherries can be bad news. This year’s seemingly bumper crop turned out to be substandard quality. We all knew it because, like most every other thing about the cherries, we read about it in the newspaper. That’s what we do — worry and wonder about the cherries. Having lived in Empire and Elk Rapids, two renowned cherry-producing towns, I’ve been immersed in cherry culture my entire life and I understand every step of the process.
Not to belabor the point, but come on, they even have special equipment to harvest cherries with. Where corn gets eagerly grabbed by ears, and apples, grapes, peaches, raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries get hand-picked, the cherry gets mechanically shaken off their trees and “gently” dropped into waiting giant buckets of cool water. Strange looking machinery that’s kept in storage the other 51 weeks of the year rolls out, does its thing, and then gets put away. Who puts their hands away during the harvest off-season?
If the agriculture industry around here is like a huge family, the cherry is both the golden child and the pedantic little pain in the butt. Even with all the coddling, cajoling and nationally known festivals thrown, it’s getting harder and harder to have around, from what I see and hear.
You won’t hear that kind of talk about the rest, though.
Is there anything better than our spectrum of local produce? Year after year, with little or no fanfare, local fruit, from the late-spring strawberries, to the last fall crop of apples burst with locally grown and harvested goodness. Also consider asparagus: Not only does it require little care, it seems to thrive on neglect. The meadow near our house yields pounds and pounds of the wild stuff and so do many of the roadside ditches around our neighborhood. How about sweet corn? Something in our local soil just makes that stuff taste so fine. Ask around about who grows the best corn or tomatoes and you’ll get a dozen suggestions of excellent places to pick up your ears and ‘maters. It’s September now and you’ll have your selection of great squash, gourds and pumpkins at the same stands and markets that are our sources for all the rest, free of all that cherry-growing angst.
So stop by a farm market and get your fill of wonderful Michigan-grown fruits and veggies. Just don’t tell the cherries; they think it was all their idea.