Take Time to Stop and Smell the Chickens

We went straight from the non-stop grind of our first big growing season and all the trial and error, into the wettest and most destructive early transition to Winter. All the while we’ve been working overtime to get everything smooth as possible for the radical shift of welcoming this new human we made into the world.

So, when there is a spare 15 or 30 minutes, my default is to think of what task to fill it with. Or, if I’m tapped out, squeeze in a game or two of Dominion.

Today, after getting all the unloading all the buckets, just a bit too early to close the nest boxes, I couldn’t think of something to knock out. After a full, productive day, I didn’t feel anxious that I had to do anything, either.

The weather just chilly enough to feel very comfy in a heavy jacket, I positioned a chair facing my chicken buddies and the low, Southern sun. The hens were spread across their savanna, scratching and pecking, crunching and shuffling, making content sounds—a delightful and relaxing backdrop. I meditated with my birds. For a moment, I even fell asleep.

A message dinged my phone right at 4, perfectly on time to close up the boxes for the evening and say good bye to the chickens.