And then there was One.

I have often heard people say that farming is not for the faint of heart.   And while I don't have the experience of whole crops, an entire years earning, devastated in a storm or such.  We are but a small homesteading operation.  But i am getting to understand it in our relationship of life/death an non attachment, or in yoga speak, Vairagya.

Chickens for better or worse have found a spot on my heart.  We got 8 x 1 day old chicks this summer, to add to the 6 laying hens and rooster that were to help make a decent offering of daily eggs next spring.  To say you shouldn't get attached to a living being is near on impossible.  As a woman, a mother, a human being... its the reason babies are so cute, so you get attached to them.  So you get up at 3am to heat up their hot water bottle.  1 day turns into a week, a month and they grow, they get feathers and when you call them they all come running to you in anticipation of vege-type treats.

So when one gets taken by a hawk.  You say "ok... we all gotta eat.  Down to 7 i guess."  And the rest continue to grow,  so big that you have to start really thinking which one is which,  Chocolate, Paper, Tree, Dragon... All different shades of black.    Then your favorite, Princess,  the one who was the first to bond, to eat out of your hand, to come running to your call, doesn't come back after a day of forging, then 2 days later the other little one "Little Bear" doesn't come back... it seems ok though.  If its a predator getting them,  you have to respect the cycle of mother nature.

But then it starts to get cold,  one of the main hens doesn't look good...  you start to research what it might be,  worms? mites? lice? parasites?  This becomes a complex fight with an unseen predator.  One that seems less worthy of my 3am hot water bottles than the hawk or the fox.

They sit by the front door... "help" they say through the body language of lethargic eyes, puffed up feathers and an unwillingness to even duck their head for some water.

"Your a farmer" i say to myself  "this is part of it... figure it out... and let go".  And you do... but out of our 8 little chicks, the majority who made it all the way to full grown pullets,  but yet to lay an egg... 1 remains.  little Fire Bird.  So small that I'm not sure how anything but a miniature chocolate easter egg could ever come out of her.  She huddles by the fireplace, unknowing that her sisters are gone.

Seems all dramatic. The reality of it is, or isn't. Depending on how your wired i guess.   But its hard not to humanize an animals experience.  To be emotionally disconnected to our feathered friends.

That is what the human experience is all about isnt it?  Not the grief inducing attachment.  But the willingness to fully feel within all the comings and goings in our lives.  To be Born, Meet the "other", Name, Love, Take care, and let go... over and over and over... until we no longer see a difference from the waives cresting and the waves receding... only looking at the ocean of oneness.