the ducklings waddle
productively through the fields
nurturing soil and soul
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silkie warmth
hovering over chicks
mother hen
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Congratulations 🙂 on the chicks!
Edgar Allen Poe is the proud strutting father;
Snowy is the doting mother;
and miraculously we have 5 new Chinese Silkie chicks.
On Sunday Tessa went to check on Snowy who was sitting on her clutch of eggs in the coop. Well what a lovely surprise the little girl had when she discovered a chick instead of an egg (not a complete surprise, but a surprise nonetheless – new life is always a surprise I think).
Over the course of the next two days five chicks had hatched from the clutch.
I put the chicks and Snowy into a safe brooder in our shed, so they could have some privacy and space from prying beaks.
We have only used the heat lamp a couple of hours of the day, as Snowy does a wonderful job in the temperature raising department (this is what hens do best 😉 ).
The chicks are growing fast and Snowy is being very attentive and diligent (Silkie hens make the best Mums).
Edgar Allen Poe is quite the rooster around town and is hiding his despair at being separated from the lovely Snowy by courting the other ladies of the coop.
And so the story continues …
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ps. The fifth chick is under Snowy’s feathers – that is what she is looking at 🙂 You should see her when all 5 are under her wings – she looks the fluffbucket indeed!
Hello
and there you were,
soft, black haired baby with closed eyes, opening mine,
curled up lump of sweet smelling newness, sleeping miracle
swaddled to recreate the womb that you relinquished, sadly I am sure,
for what a perfect world in utero, with that heartbeat rhythm and maternal waltz,
we danced, you and me, and the dance will continue, in the fresh air of a new world,
spinning on its head, in an ungainly but glorious departure from what was, the sun sets
in the west, a dali-esque timepiece melts in the distance, but rising in the east,
a sunflower dazzle,
hello,
My Canadian friend, blogger and artist Benedicte Delachanal sent me a photo to inspire some poetry. Here is my poem in response. My children helped with the brainstorming! You can go to wikipedia if you want to hear the song of the cicada, but I’m sure you all know what they sound like.
Song of the Cicada
Some creatures sing until they die
the cicada being one
blase insect
indifferent to fate
singing is what matters
to the cicada
to live life crooning
among the strawberries
in spring, then
chanting in the summer
resonating through the heatwaves
buzzzz
clickkk
hummm
reverberating in the garden forest
like the wind on the sea in a shell
one is joined by many
and a choir of cicadas
roar their pleasure
feel their song
vibrate to the centre of your being
Our lady of the Rosary
Our mother’s devotion
to another mother’s
devotion to a son
crucified for us all.
A garland of roses
a string of prayers
to Mary for her son
and for her own sons.
Joyful Mysteries
Sorrowful Mysteries
Glorious Mysteries
devotion
desperation
flagellation
conflagration
she douses the flames with meditation while
rubbing well worn beads between thumb and finger
Rosary beads
worry beads.
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