Spring

Winter is reluctant to relinquish its hold on the Chicken Ranch. The nights are chilly, and the rain that falls on me, as I feed the animals this day, is cold. Each drop is like a touch of ice, and the wind causes me to raise the collar on my slicker and tighten up my hat. Briefly, the sun burns through the mists; then the clouds curtain it off, and gray reigns again. But, the sun is warm in the times when it wins the struggle, and the soil responds to it. The stored up energy of spring is a kinetic bundle of color just ready to burst forth. The season of change will not be denied its rightful place.

The chilly wetness is welcomed, after a year of one the worst droughts in history. And the moisture has encouraged the Forsythia to adorn its branches in yellow splendor. The plum trees are glowing pink, and dogwoods compete for attention with their white and dusty rose blossoms.

The grass that lay brown and wiry last year is renewed. Alive and green-filled, the blades are a rich with chlorophyll. Pastures and lawns promise food and beauty in the summer ahead. Winter wheat rises, reaching for the sky, in the promise of heads full of grain, and a bountiful harvest.

Farmers wait patiently for the sun. The much needed rains are a blessing, and there is time yet to be in the fields. Ranchers feel the relief of lush pastures, after a year of struggling to find adequate hay. Many herds of cattle were sold off or greatly reduced during the worst of the 18month drought. Now herds are being rebuilt cautiously, and optimism slowly filters into the conversations at the restaurants and feed stores.

Corn has come down in price, so we have added more hens here at the Chicken Ranch. I used to order the stock and have them shipped, but my grandsons love to pick them out at the feed store, so it’s how we restock now. It’s like a holiday for us. The boys always call to tell me “Grandad, the sign is in the store windows, the chicks are coming”. Then we pick a day where all of us can go, and we head to town together.

We buy good brown egg layers, usually Plymouth Rocks or Rhode Island Reds, and sometimes the black and white Barred Rocks. But, each boy gets to pick a special chick that day. They examine the Top Hats with their Jimmy Hendrix afros, the naked necks, the fluffy footed Cochins and the colorful, scrappy little Bantams. Each one wants a unique chicken that will stand out among the others, so they can easily find them and say, “That’s my chicken right there.”

We have been fishing a time or two in between rains, without much success, but we enjoyed being together outdoors. The spring sunlight, lighting up the lake as the winds runs its fingers over the surface, and the welcome music of the returning songbirds makes the time well spent. The frogs proclaim the entry of spring with chirps, peeps and harrumphs. They make a splash as we amble along the banks. 

Male turkeys spread wide their tail feathers, and strut their ritual dances to attract a mate. Spring is a time of procreation, as well as a time of rebirth. The season is living up to its potential this year. April showers will bring May flowers. Happy will be the animal kingdom, and humankind as well, when sunny skies and warm days are the norm.

Another winter has come and gone, and sunny days are ahead. The cycle continues as Mother Earth has planned, and we are all the happy beneficiaries. Don't we all love Spring?

Well I must go now; I have lettuces and onions to plant, a woodshed to clean, and ashes to remove from the fireplace. It’s great to be outside and working, even in the dampness.

 The sun is a little higher these early spring days, and along with it, so are the spirits of the inhabitants here… especially mine.