every day is a good day
Yesterday morning brought a fresh surprise, the first snow of the season. Just a light brushing of snow here and there, but enough to bring happiness.
At the same time, a buttercup poked its yellow smile through the fallen leaves. Snow and buttercups on the same morning. A very special day.
In less than an hour, the earth reaches that spot in its orbit around the sun when the northern hemisphere starts to tilt back toward the sun and the days here begin to lengthen. It really is the start of the new year. The moment to have great expectations of what the next cycle of sun and growth will bring.
Madge’s eyes are full of expectations as she sits quietly, waiting to lay an egg. Nina is full of expectations as she scratches the earth for her two chicks. There is an intensity in her eyes as she spots something better for her two loved ones to eat. They are a week old now, and scurry at blinding speed around her feet. They are two inches of pure expectation.
Even in the darkest, shortest days of the year, there is plenty of life. Chickens don’t hibernate in the winter. After a full day pecking and scratching, they gather at their favorite spots to gossip. Margaret is still raising her chicks, even though they are nearly as large as she. This is her second brood this year. Will she raise chicks next year, or will she decide that raising ten chicks is enough?
In the woods, fungi don’t stop growing. On this fallen log, they’ve spread their filament hyphae deep into the wood, and now they are fruiting, developing mushroom heads on the side of the log. Over many years, the fungi will eat the log until it disappears onto the forest floor. In time, it will nourish new trees, which will grow old, fall, and become fungal food again.
You’d never think these eggs came from the same species of bird. The one on the left looks like a fairly normal chicken egg. The one on the right? What is it? The egg of a stork? It certainly doesn’t look like a chicken egg … and yet it is.
Looking at chicken eggs in the store, you would never know how varied they are. They come in infinite shapes, sizes, and colors. That’s what makes having your own flock of chickens such a joy, chicken eggs in all their glorious variety.
It’s a great time to be a fern. The weather is cool and wet, the sun is weak, they can let their leaves breathe in the moist air without worrying about drying out or getting burnt by the sun. Their moss beds stay soft and fluffy day and night. This time of year, the forest belongs to the ferns and their mossy beds.
