“quack quack” said the duck, “their mom is tucking them into bed and reading them a bedtime story

FROM MILK TO CHEESE IN A BREEZE

By KARINA E. DREYER

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the flowery curtains and gently woke me up. The smell of fried bacon and fresh bread filled the air. Grandma was in the kitchen! I rushed to get dressed and wolfed= down my breakfast.

I bounced down the red brick steps through the white-laced gate, letting it BANG behind me. As I skipped down the dirt roa= d, chocolate-swirled dust filled the air.&nbs= p; “ACHOO, ACHOO!” As I sneezed, two plump Grey Lourie̵= 7;s squawked annoyed and flew up from a towering knob thorn tree. They circled above and settled on a branch of a wild fig tree, joining their buddies in a chorus of joyful nois= e.

Herds of cattle grazed leisurely in pat= ches of green pastures, making gentle bellowing sounds. A soft breeze tickled my cheeks and my nose protested against the odor of cow manure and diesel fuel= in the air.

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A family of African Hoopoe’s, wit= h soft black-and-white feathers and ginger crests, probed Aunt Lucy’s lawn w= ith their long pointy bills, searching for juicy worms. The factory noise incre= ased and they walked rapidly away, nodding their heads as they left. =

I sprinted the last couple of meters to= the factory. Muscled workers in dark blue overalls and black rubber boots unloa= ded the 20-gallon metal cans from the trucks.&= nbsp; The lids made boisterous cymbal sounds as the workers poured the fre= sh milk into big steel tanks.

I followed the narrow cement pathway to= the gray building. Inside it smel= led of rancid milk blended with sanitary cleaners. Everywhere workers shouted to be heard over the machinery racket. Six enormous stainless steel tubs contained milk in various stages of the cheese making process. I skidded over to Gran= dpa on the wet, slippery floor. H= e added an orange colorant to the milk with a gigantic measuring spoon. Grandpa smi= led at me and set a temperature timer. My nose twitched as the pungent milk was heated and the solidifying process started.

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We walked over to a tub where a huge knife-comb cut through the solid milk mass. Grandpa explained that the milk was broken down into pieces of solid curd and liquid whey. The curd chunks were milled and placed into molds. He handed me a piece of curd. It felt rubbery= and smooth and had a light sour aroma.

Grandpa and I left the factory commotio= n and walked over to the cheese shop. Round platters with cheese samples were set out on a spotless countertop. The firm, ripened Cheddar had an intensely strong aroma. I popped a tiny square into my mouth= and a mixture of distinctive sharp tangy flavors exploded on my tongue. Next, I peeled off the protective rind of the smooth Gouda to reveal its pleasant sweet arom= a. The fresh mild cheese melted in my mouth like velvet butter.<= /b>

Grandpa handed me a loaf of my favorite Cheddar. I kissed him goodbye= and left the hustle and bustle of the factory behind. In the undisturbed peace = of the Savannah Bushveld, the high-pitched humming of the cicadas filled the sizzling summer air and followed me home.