ina/puusty
New member
have no ..written testimonys, nor carved lists of ..what-to-do. No book of rules..nor thou-shalt-nots..have been approved and issued..to my knowledge. And yet..in the little community of rooster, and hen..pullets and chick..there is a framework..of 'love each other..as self'. No goodbook..no funding of an outreach around our area of earth..simple need-noticed..and empathy..given. Does one need love? Has one suffered a weakness..and..if I notice..will you accept? They do..and they do. Here..in the fenced, unfenced..and wide ranging field areas of this farm..a small but supportive happening. Similar..I am thinking..to what used to happen when..Clan and communal..meant something..rich, and strong..and ..nurturing. Elephants do this, deer also..and people ..used to watch over each other..rather than their toys. (NPR this morning..talking about a 'new concept' in creating Villiages for the elders who wish to remain in their own houses and avoid ..Care Centers. I noted the types of states and communitys listed..and grinned. Those of us..in the rural areas..never, Ever..gave away..the concept!) So then..in any flock of chickens..wild or country-farmed..which 'happens'..outside of a totally locked up commercial building..there are the quick..and the dead..and those who learn, gather together..and watch over..each other. The aged..are emulated by the younger members..and a hunching of chicken shoulders, a speeding of feet..when the shadows of chickenhawk..dive about the fastness..of the fields. A scream of warning..and darting under the tangles of brush and berryvine..to wait until..the elders emerge..wary eyes skyward..to look for/issue..the all-clear. A couple of weeks ago..a hen who chose to nest the communal eggs..not found/retrieved..was killed upon her nest..leaving an assortment of unhatched/dead and 2 live chicks. Of those..one chick survives..tiny little ..hoppyfeet and an ability to escape any cage..to be with Old Mother. Old Mother..is blind in one eye..but used to be the setting-hatching-brooding hen. She has survived hawk attacks..lacks a bit of tail-feather upholstry..and that eye..but her sense of ..Mission..is still strong. At the cage-edges..she coaxed the wee baby to come to her..and now they nestle..chick being loved and mentored and watched over..and Old Hen..eagle eyed..wary..living her life now..never out on the far fencelines..but ranging from 'near middle' to the brush caverns. Surrounded by..the rooster, the assorted hens of maturity and..the pullets who are coming into their own..it is, as ..We. In every family..we rise..we fight the good fight, we retreat as our strengths diminish..we shelter the loner..we scale back..the territory we claimed as adults..and make of the space..curr. required, a softness..and sharing, so that when we fall from the circle..the newly minted..have Room...have Space..to sing the songs of ..Out there..above..Beyond... Hens..out looking for new nests..the urge to have nest with a view..and not of Cat, nor of Chickenhawk..the balence in choosing..my friends..a delicate line..between Love and Loss....choose-well..choose well. 
ina
ina
