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By Zoë Bradbury “Strawberries are too delicate to be picked by machine. The perfectly ripe ones even bruise at too heavy a human touch. It hit her then that every strawberry she had ever eaten — every piece of fruit — had been picked by calloused human hands. Every piece of toast with jelly represented someone’s knees, someone’s aching back and hips, someone with a bandanna on her wrist to wipe away the sweat. Why had no one told her this before?” — Alison Luterman, “What They Came For” At the end of Oregon’s winter, the orchards and vineyards need tending: pruning, spraying, thinning. The months advance and heat waves start to belly-dance above the soil. Row crops are planted: Onions and watermelons take root near Hermiston; beans, peas, squash, lettuce, potatoes — an almost endless list of crops — are planted in the Willamette Valley. Irrigation pipes are moved in the mint fields of eastern Oregon. Weeds fall flat behind the sharpened edge of a hoe. Berries are picked, one by one, and packed into plastic clamshells. Oregon’s agricultural diversity is profound. It is a state that produces some 220 crops and livestock commodities — a greater variety than any state except Florida and California — totaling more than four billion dollars in agricultural production each year. Oregon agriculture is labor intensive, every berry and every pome fruit must be picked by human hands, which explains why Oregon’s agricultural payroll expenses are the fifth highest in the country, despite the fact that the state ranks twenty-sixth in total agricultural production. Ours are farms that rely on opposable thumbs and an eye for ripeness, on manual dexterity and skilled use of tools. In short, on something so advanced, so complex, and so capable of movement and learning that no amount of engineering has managed to fully replicate it with a machine: the human being.
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