Ruth, Bader, and Ginsberg, the three red hens. Well named. The three are one. They do act independently of one another. They are not Ruth, Bader, or Ginberg. They are Ruth, Bader, AND Ginsberg.

We once had a chicken named Red Hen. She was the most social of all the chickens we’ve had. She would sit on the upper quadrant compost station and talk to me. And she always had something to say. I still miss her and hope someday to find another like her.

Red Hen

I’d like to hatch some fertile eggs and imprint the offspring. The best thing of all would be to imprint geese. We’d have to be living someplace else though; someplace with a pond and a marsh, and if needed, a heated enclosure. Geese that don’t have room or a pond become mean and cranky, and who can blame them?

We hung the quilt in the living room – it has geese at the top, flying to the left. Pete also bought me a photograph of geese landing in water. I look at these items and I think of geese and how difficult it has become for them to get from point A to Point B. It shouldn’t be a rough life, but it is. There should be laws against killing migratory birds.

The world as we knew it is not the world as we now know it. There is a wanton disregard for nature and for all wild creatures. This pains me. And this is the hard part of watching the planet die. The end might be a relief because its preferable to long term suffering.

And what am I doing about this? I am encouraging people to read widely and broadly. Right now, on my left is a book entitled Wolf Nation by Brenda Peterson. It’s about the life, death, and return of wild wolves. It would have remained in the bin of books going to the senior center – I doubt that anyone there would claim it – but tonight I grabbed it. I will leave it down here in the kitchen and read it in bits and pieces.

This book may be too dark for me to read. These days, in all the books that I’m reading there has to be at least a ray of light. Total darkness doesn’t cut it.

Back to the chickens. I think that our birds are happy. They would perhaps like to have a heated roost, but this winter has been unusually mild, so they are happier. They are glad that they don’t have to deal with a rooster, I mean, what gives? They don’t need a rooster in order to lay eggs.

We have gotten a handful of winter eggs, which is rare. Probably the only upside to climate change.

I am lucky that I have so much. I mean, I have horses, goats, and chickens. Some who live in cities only wish for such things. And though I at times am busy, I do enjoy caring for them all, even in the supposed dead of winter.