Learning respect from nature and resilience…

The first time I witnessed a chicken laying an egg… it scared the hell out of me. Imagine being completely ignorant of the birthing process and walking in on convulsing chicken… heavy breathing and fluffed out feathers. Horrifying. When the episode was over, the hen got up and walked off like nothing happened… and behold… an egg-offering was left for me to take back to mother for breakfast. Feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs were easy.

Getting past Old Red, the large, plump, red-feathered, territorial rooster…

…proved traumatic. The day he caught up to me, he’d gotten loose from the pen and chased me down. My lax attention cost me that day. Unfortunately, I tripped over a tree root and fell flat on my chest—knocked the wind out of me. That was all the opportunity Red needed to jump on my back, dig in his talons and peck hell-fire and fury at the back of my head. I remember mother yelling from the upstairs window to get up and run—which I did. Alfred Hitchcock had nothing compared to Red.

Nevertheless, there was a Divine force who looked out for me… or maybe Red met up with karma. One day, he was mysteriously replaced by a scrawny, white rooster from across the street. I never knew what happened to Red. He was never seen or heard from again.