Posted by: nightmistwalker | January 18, 2014

And So, the Goddess Sent Me a Chicken

I have continued searching for the missing chickadees, but I have had no success with that. I did think, one day last week, that I heard one calling from the woods. That call, however, is the only sign I have had that chickadees still exist in the area. I still continue to put out seed, to the great satisfaction of three cardinals, several finches and sparrows, and the occasional blue jay.

And, also, a chicken.

This chicken actually lives next door, along with 10 other chickens and 8 goats. They all huddle together in the closed shed during the coldest nights, but during the day the shed is opened. Mrs. Cluck flies over the fence and struts her way over to the Temple of Gaia, where she has discovered the overflow from the feeder near the outdoor altar. There she spends her day, impervious to the snow and the rain, scratching and clucking and picking at as many seeds as she can find. Thank the Goddess, she has not discovered the feeder on the front porch.

Chickens, I realize, have their place in Gaia’s creation, and I am duly grateful for the soil aeration that is going on with all this scratching. It is a small task to sweep up all the leaves and debris that she flings upon the sidewalk leading to the Temple’s front door. It is just that she is such a large, dominant bird in the landscape. She is three times larger, for instance, than Feline Priestess Astarte, who got the shock of her life when she tried to escape the Temple and ran into Mrs. Cluck rather than freedom. (Yes, Mrs. C’s feathers were fluffed. She is still quite a large bird.)

Mrs. Cluck, however, is not much for conversation. She ignores me when I go to fill the feeders and seems sublimely unaware when the car is moving carefully past her in the driveway. But it is a different story if I should roll the car window down and greet her in a genial manner.  Then she screams and bats her wings and runs off in the opposite direction as if, well, as if the sky was falling down.  I am feeding you, Mrs. Cluck! The least you could do is to return my greeting in a dignified manner!

I have come to the sad conclusion that Mrs. Cluck will never pass the avian version of the Mensa test. I also have the dreadful expectation that Mrs. Cluck will find a place to build her nest not far from the outdoor altar come Ostara. I may not have chickadees, but I may have chicks.

What is that sound? Could it be that Gaia is laughing?

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Responses

  1. If you’re lucky, you’ll get eggs. I still miss my neighbor (in Cville)’s chickens — or at least the super fresh eggs that I ate during their short lives. They were eaten by raccoons one night. Some were mauled; the others died of fright. My neighbor became discouraged and didn’t get any more.

    • We do have raccoons here, and I would not be surprised if something along that order happened. We also have red-tailed hawks, which finished off one of Mrs. Cluck’s sisters shortly after they moved in last July. We are all part of Nature, though, and we just have to celebrate the ones who survive.

  2. i can appreciate the sorrow of missing wild life. its discomforting and seems to signal further imbalance. i am hoping that your chickadees are enjoying some quality of life *some*where, if not yet with you.

    • Thank you. The joy is that a half dozen chickadees returned at the very end of January, along with 4 robins, 3 blue jays, and a Downy woodpecker. Along with the juncos, sparrows, and finches, our Temple’s entrance was blessed with fluttering movement and bird song.

  3. oh, that is great news! ‘new moon plants promising seeds of raucous return’ 🙂


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