Wednesday, October 26th, 2011

At last!  The Chickens are in their permanent residence under the beech tree.

The door to the run looks a little wonky, but it is actually the ground that is running up hill.  The shed was old and abandoned and needed a little care and attention.  We painted it, put a new roof on, cut a hole in it, put a tiny door over the hole, installed nest boxes and even a perch made out of a beech branch.  They are not using the perch.  They are using the space.  They are stretching themselves and scratching about so much that they seem to have forgotten the bullying and fighting.

There must be a certain age when this happens. Or maybe a tipping point in the cumulation of life’s  experiences. I can understand the slow appreciation of jazz, olives and radio 4. I can even understand, although my pupils cannot, the excitement at the arrival of a book I ordered on the subject of the natural history of hedges. My pupils still bring that up even though the event was over a year ago. But, what I am a little shocked at is the moment when the lovely Sharon and I decided it was a good idea to hang some wet clothes in front of the wood stove to dry. When we were a little less wise and when the earth was younger, we would have never dreamed of spoiling the view of the fire and the ambience of the room. We have become our parents now, and it sits a little too comfortably with us.