The summer's last roses are blooming, the birds are happy at the feeder, the boys are coming after lunch.
In "real" news, the government is in a mess and I can't help but feel that a small faction of very, very powerful men are so filled with hate for something I can't even begin to understand that they are actually trying to bring down our country and make it appear to be the fault of a president who simply wants better health care for all of us. I wrote a post four years ago which I think still holds some truth although I have to believe that at this point, there is more than racism involved and I think it is money.
Here's a little video I made of my chickens. They are scratching in the pecan leaves, they are looking sad and bereft of feathers. I hope that as their feathers return, their melancholy will lessen.
Am I anthropomorphizing?
Yes. And why not? Are they not fellow creatures with fears and aches and worries? Ever since Trixie got killed, they have pulled into themselves. They sleep huddled together in the nesting boxes instead of strung out along the roost as they used to.
Well, I love them as they are, scraggly and non-productive, perhaps sad and afraid.
Tiny Tyrannosaurus Rexes, my soft, dear chickens.
I am grateful to have such good, small things to fill my good, small world.
I am grateful for all of you.