fowl

It's five months now that we've been urban poultry farmers. Due to a complicated coop situation, for the greater part of their time with us, nightly I've lifted this flock of four into their enclosure to roost. The result has been very socialized, sweet chickens. Sure, they still startle at the smallest thing (which has illustrated exactly why the phrase, "What are you? Chicken?" could be insulting). Still, our girls hustle over when we enter their yard; they almost seem to be clucking us up about all that has occurred since our last meeting. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the kitchen scraps I usually bear.

I've developed and unexpectedly deep affection for Peck, Prim, Rhonda, and Lily. How they treat on another, which foods they favor, how proudly each calsl after laying an egg -all of it fascinates me.

Strangely, what I've noticed recently is a translation of this connection to other birds. In fact, I am beginning to think they are seeking me out - like I'm some ornithological magnet calling feathery folks near. Last weekend a seagull stalked me, relentlessly! And today, this little fella just wouldn't leave. Both stared me down...edging ever closer, unafraid, curious. Like they had a message. Like they knew something I needed to know.

Now, certainly I spoke to them. And, yes, I may have been snacking on things they may have desired.

But still...if I get carried away by some swarm of sparrows, ask the chickens where I've gone. They'll know.