Jordan Poulsen's Batesville Project

The raughten smell filled the air with delight. Eggs being made every second, hearing bwak bwak for hours upon days. The white feathers glittering as they run, there yellow feet strutting left..Right..Left...Right. As the people walk up and down the isles picking up the eggs sorting browns from whites, as i prepared to taste the eggs the chickens had layed i noticed the smell was getting worse. Day by day more and more eggs racked up serving Batesville with fresh eggs. The soft feeling of the soft chicken feathers that reminded me of cotton, were white and black with a white stem. Ignoring the noise as I was talking to the owner, he told me he had picked at least 1000 eggs a day, i was very amazed at what he had to say.

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        The rain was pitter-pattering on the roof of the car as we drove down Main Street. A heavenly aroma hit me as I wallked to the ticket booth and prepared to go watch a movie at the Melba. While I waited in line for some snacks, I could see many people waiting for their food they looked like wild animals, it was as if they hadn't eaten in days. I sat down in a seat that felt as soft as a cloud, while I ate some popcorn that was the right balance of salt and butter.

This is how I felt my first time in the Melba and how I still feel today when I walk threw the doors. Alot of memories start to flood back like the warm air of spring time blowing threw the trees.