A number of years ago, a dead cottonwood fell over in a windstorm. It’s now home to a thick bed of moss and brilliant yellow something. They have years and years of food in that cottonwood trunk. No worries for them. As long as there is enough moisture, they won’t go hungry.

I’m outdoors much of the day, and it seems that most things in nature never work. I saw Hazel taking her chicks around the pond, through the woods, and out by the compost bin. No matter where she took the chicks, there was something for her and the chicks to eat. I never once saw her working, earning money, and paying someone for the food she found for her chicks.

It’s the same with the trees and bushes and grass. None of them are working. They lift their leaves toward the sun, and at no cost to them, absorb the energy they need that is streamed, free of charge, to them from 93 million miles away. They don’t pay anyone for the rain or the wind that blows through their leaves. How many trees and plants and animals would exist if they had to live in an economy where they had to work and pay for everything they needed?

We’ve been here more than ten years now so I’ve looked at this circle of beech trees many times. This morning I saw a cedar had sprouted between two of the trees. Trying to take a photo of the cedar sapling, I looked inside the circle of beech trees for the first time. Ten years here and I’d never done that before. Wow! Instant art. Wonderful, delightful things are everywhere. All you have to do is look.

It’s late summer when plump blackberries dangle in numbers beyond infinity. It’s late summer when you’ve eaten so many blackberries you can’t eat another one.

It’s late summer when the anemones are dancing. Anemone comes from Greek and means “daughter of the wind”, a fitting name for a flower which dances with the slightest breeze.

It’s the season of color. There’s something celebrating every day. Flowers in full bloom, and Billy crossing the bridge to see who is on the other side. Will he get lucky or will she go? A rooster’s fate is to court, court, court. No matter how many times he is turned down, he can’t stop from trying again. Which shows what a powerful force love is in the lives of chicken. It rules their lives.

The beans express love by blooming. They have nurturing gifts in delicate, beautiful, enticing packages for the bees. They don’t ask for much in exchange. Just go to the next flower and the next and taste all of our love. “Love us all,” the beans sing to the bees.

Ruled by love, the beans reach for the skies. If the poles were long enough, could their love reach the clouds?

The rainbow chard have no shame. Such brilliant colors. Is this really food? To fully appreciate rainbow chard, you have to see it growing out of the ground. How does it do that? How does it take sunlight and nutrients out of the earth and explode with such color? Can you do that? It’s a magnificent plant and tastes twice as good when you pick the leaves yourself.

Hazel’s love for her chicks is boundless. Love is the missing, essential nutrient on 99.999999% of poultry farms. Chicks should never be deprived of their mother’s love. If you’re lucky enough to get one of my eggs, know that the hen who laid that egg for you, grew up bathed in her mother’s love. If you close your eyes and let the yolk linger on your tongue, you can taste the love.

According to the Japanese Seasonal Calendar, today, August 8, is the first day of fall. It marks the time when you first sense fall in the air. The last few mornings, there has been a chill in the air. The sun is coming up three quarters of an hour later than at the solstice. The days are an hour and a half shorter. This evening there were even dark clouds, wind gusts, and a handful of raindrops, not the buckets we need.

Hazel’s chicks are two weeks old. Their wing feathers are showing. Every day Hazel takes them on a grand tour which starts at the crack of dawn. Each day these chicks walk more than industrial chickens walk their entire lives.

Tangerine is nestling in to hatch a clutch. She’s a feisty hen. She should make a good mother.