I have new chickens, layers eight weeks old. When they were chicks living under lights in the mudroom, I made a practice of picking them up one at a time, those that would let me. And now when I enter the poultry yard, I feel like a one-man midway at the chicken fair, birds standing in line waiting to be picked up. No good can come of lifting chickens, I can almost hear my dad thinking that, though he's gone now, too. And yet the birds churr and cluck, and I leave the yard happy.This is indelibly in my mind's eye ... all those chickens lining up for their turn to be lifted. I laugh out loud every time I read it.
Verlyn KlinkenborgMore Scenes from the Rural Life
Friday, September 20, 2013
Lagniappe: Lifting Chickens
From my quote journal.