every day is a good day
Watching chickens preen makes me want to have a neck that can stretch like theirs. The only spot they can’t reach are the tops of their heads. To scratch an itch on their heads, they need to use their feet. When they are resting, their necks don’t look very long, but when they need to, they can stretch their necks to reach any itch.
Only a mother can provide the warmth and security a little chick craves. I was aware that hens have a variety of calls to instruct their chicks. There is the sound they make when they have found food. Another for danger. And yet another call which means, “get your butt over here now!”
Today we learned they have another sound which means, “hide, stay quiet, and don’t move until I come.” While she was with her chicks on the open grass, a raven came flying in. Lucky sent the chicks scurrying under a bush, while she went running in another direction to distract the raven. A raven will easily eat a small chick. She waited until the Raven was gone before she went back to fetch her chicks.
A favorite spot for chicks is right in front of their mother, half covered by her feathers. Sitting snugly, they can peer out and watch the whole world go by.
Being a mother hen is a twenty-four hour job. It’s mid afternoon and it’s time for a break. Some of her chicks are taking a warm nap under her, while others still scamper about. Her chicks may nap during the day, but Lucky doesn’t. Which might explain while mother hens tend to go to bed early. By dusk, they are bedded down with their chicks underneath them.
Every trip into the vegetable beds is a voyage of discovery. You don’t have to look far to find beauty. Mother nature can’t touch a single square foot of land without leaving behind breathtaking splendor.
I had a laugh today listening to Ira Flatow on Science Friday today. He was interviewing Michael J. Sheehan about facial recognition. As I listened, it dawned on me that Ira Flatow must spend almost no time with animals. He commented how animal faces all look the same while human faces are very different. His comment made me laugh. Has this man not even looked at two dog faces side by side? He certainly hasn’t looked closely at a flock of chickens.
It’s gradually becoming the cool, wet time of the year. For Lucky and her chicks, it means having a big breakfast before spending the day outdoors in the cool, drizzly weather.
In the village, the last flowers of summer are as beautiful as ever. The butterflies are enjoying the last sips of nectar. The beauty of the Pacific Northwest is that the seasons change gently and slowly, giving plenty of time to enjoy the transformations. Each day is just slightly different than the day before it.
The first fall leaves are dropping. Ahead of me are weeks and months of gathering leaves to compost and use in vegetable beds in the spring, summer, and next fall. They are much more satisfying to use than artificial fertilizer sold in plastic containers. Raking the leaves provides plenty of exercise. The earthy smell as they break down is enjoyable. The crumbly texture of composted leaves soothes my fingers. And as the leaves break down, they attract an infinite variety of bugs the chickens love to eat. The bugs eat the decaying leaves. The chickens eat the bugs. I eat the eggs of the chickens. In a way, when I crack open an egg and eat it, I am eating the autumn leaves. If I close my eyes, can I taste the autumn leaves in the eggs?
On the way home from delivering eggs, there’s time to enjoy my favorite cows.
