Every morning, after their corn meal and table scraps, the chickens gather under the lilac bush in front of the Pig Barn. I lay down sometimes and listen. And I imagine Fran is talking to the other chickens about life. Do not take it for granted, she says. Do not listen to hens who think the world is too grim a place in which to lay eggs. Do not live in fear, even though the fox is right up the hill, and I will always remember what his sharp teeth can do.
We can live a small and fearful life – the life everyone expects of us chickens – or we can live a larger life. Take our walks. Find our buds. Encourage one another to appreciate the good things we have – garbage, worms, bugs, the freedom to walk around. I can tell you, it can be taken away at any time. Life happens. Let's go get some worms. I whisper to you of life and remind you not to waste it on foolish things and worries. Do not listen to the prophets of doom. They are the worms of existence. (Be back Thursday.)