Homesteading brings the opportunity for many life lessons. Most of those lessons, in my experience, turn out to be insights into the origins of random phrases I have heard while growing up in the Deep South. The first one that comes to mind is, “Running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” Let me tell you, that can really happen, as described in ancient post previously written. However, a bitter truth the homestead requires us to acknowledge is that life and loss are constant companions.
When we moved here, the first animals we added were chickens. We are further into the country than ever before, so we did not anticipate the predator problems that accompany a more rural environment. We built secure spaces for them, but we largely practice a free range environment for the overall health of the birds and the homestead. Aerial predators were taking them out – except for the breeds that were black. Turns out that deters the flying predators, so that’s pretty much what we have now, for their own well-being.
All that tedious background to get to my subject of interest today. Samson. He was a beautiful rooster who was chill around people, not excessively mouthy, and always on the alert protecting his girls. We have had him a while, and we were all comfortable with the current setup. When we added hens, we have kept Samson because he has been the best rooster we have ever had. Until last week, when something decapitated him in the middle of the afternoon and left his body in the middle of the field. Bret immediately sought out a new rooster, and we scheduled a pickup time to get him. Even so, the next day, three more hens just disappeared completely.
Enter the new guy. He literally screamed at us while moving him from one cage to the other to bring him home. He isn’t officially named yet, but I’m voting for Houston – because we have ourselves a problem. Extra noise the first few days is expected because of needing to adapt to new surroundings, but this guy! He is a young arrogant loud mouth with no respect to the boundaries that we have in place to protect him, and he is dumb as a brick. Our girls are mostly all a little older, and it seems that he annoys them too.
Maybe I’m looking at this from the perspective of a girl still adjusting to the idea of being in her forties, but the situation brings to my mind the benefits of maturity. It really is true that with age comes wisdom. Funny how we think we are so far advanced beyond the animal kingdom when there are a ridiculous amount of parallels that reflect aspects of human behavior. I have all confidence that our young upstart of a rooster will mature and become more circumspect as time progress, much like my teenagers & toddler – and me for that matter. Until then, we don’t know what we don’t know. There is such value in listening to someone else’s story, especially when our worlds could be so different. Hearing a different perspective with the intent to understand versus with the intent to debate is, to me, a basic human responsibility. There is so much wisdom to glean from those who have traversed this path before me, and there are new innovative ways to see the world from those experiencing the beginning of the journey. I find myself at stage of life caught between both of these things, and I will be honest. Some days I struggle with it, but other days? What an opportunity to be presented with both sides, having lived long enough to see the value of both and still have long enough to go to bring about the new ideas that I find applicable and relevant to me.
Journey Into Freedom 