Jul 21, 2011
Chicken in the Sink
My mind has wondered lately to the ideal. What that is? How that exists in the imperfect and impermanence of life? As a family we take as much time that we can to plug in to the moment to realize its beauty. To acknowledge the gravity of where we are. That this will pass whether we wish it to or not. We try to breathe in the moments, whatever they may be. Change seems to be what has caused havoc and created new beauty in our lives. I am pondering this as I am standing next to Blackbird, our Americana chicken, as she bathes in our kitchen sink. Something is wrong with her, we believe she is egg bound. She is one of our oldest chickens and perhaps it is just her time. The last chicken we had died in 24 hours from this. I was not about to take any measures to save the last one, it is just a chicken I said, livestock. I still feel that way, but I am softened. If there is something I can do, I do. So here I am, making sure she doesn't decide to jump out of her warm bath, drinking my tea and talking to her as she softly clucks back. I am clearly not the rough and tough farmer I idealized upon embarking on urban homesteading. I am some mixture of gentle, grounded, tough, and a little strange.
It is a moment that I appreciate. The humor of it, the gravity, the change it means has come to me. Whether this chicken in this moment survives, we will soon know. This was a beautiful space in time to contemplate who I am and what I am working towards.
*The sink has been thoroughly disinfected.