Without a doubt, my favorite time of day: early morning. There's just something about the quiet, the solitude, the feeling of having alone time with God. I make my herb tea in my ever-ready go cup, slip on my shoes and head outside. It's still dark with a hint of sunshine. The birds stir and rustle in the trees. The cats yawn and stretch. The breeze sweeps past my face and the rooster crows; I can usually tell which one it is.
I'm trying to train my chickens to scrounge for bugs IN the garden so I entice them with their breakfast in a bucket. CHICK-CHICK-CHICK. My calls are softer than they are at night when I call them home from their free-ranging. It's further to the gardens than they are used to going; some of them are real "chickens" and won't embark on the new venture.
The first morning I reached the gardens with about a third of the flock. Yesterday a few more brave souls followed and this morning I actually have a good sized bug-patrol. Cassie (my dog) and I sit down there with them for a while as they are used to being with me and I thought it may encourage them to stay. HUBS sat me up a canopy complete with chair for my garden breaks. It is so peaceful; the sunflowers look toward the sunrise, new tassels flow down the embryo corn like Rapunzel's hair; the cosmos are just beginning to bloom.
My efforts are rewarded when after collecting all the feed I had thrown out a few of my "Millies" (Jersey Giants) head into the strawberry patch and scratch around the weeds I pulled yesterday. I smile. Success comes in small increments. Life is good.
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