Heading out to the coop to care for our chickens at dawn on Christmas morning, I was enveloped by a sense of calm and serenity.
It was a chilly 20 degrees outside at 7 a.m. yesterday but there was no wind, so I was quite comfortable in my winter togs. The neighborhood is always quiet on Christmas Day, but the silence was even more pervasive in our large (by city standards) backyard than out on the street that fronts the house.
Once I had placed the hens’ food bowl and water dish in their outdoor pen, I opened the coop door. As Snow and Nala emerged and hopped down the ramp into the pen, I gave each of them a gentle pat on the back. Before heading back into the house, I talked to "the girls" for a moment, and admired their plumage as they alternated between pecking away at their feed and peering up at me in that oddly intense way that chickens have.
Amid all of the noise, hoopla, excess and zaniness of the holiday season, this sliver of tranquility was brief, but glorious.
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