Brief update

I haven’t written in awhile. I’ve been depressed the past few weeks and haven’t had much energy for anything. I’m feeling pretty directionless waiting for spring to start planting. I’ve been writing some, especially in my writer’s circle/class.

We had another incident and we lost some chickens. Some more were injured, so we aren’t out of the woods yet, but they seem to be doing well.

Wow, I’m really struggling to come up with anything to say. Otherwise, the past few weeks have been pretty unremarkable. I guess this will just be an entry checking in. Hopefully I’ll have more to report soon.

Chicken Vigil

She was surrounded by soft wood chip bedding as she quietly bled. She was dying. 

“I love you,” we cooed in turn, “We all love you.”

“I love you too,” she cooed back.

Some of us were crying. “Coo coo coo…” we said. “It will be alright, my sister.” 

After she slipped away, we still stood around her in a circle. Huddled close, feathers touching, we comforted one another. We kept vigil, sharing stories of her life. The way she hated leaving the coop on a snowy day. She always trailed behind the rest, muttering complaints. The way she lit up on sunny days, so happy to sunbathe and smile in the morning glow. All night we guarded to make sure she made it safely to the next world. 

In the morning, one of our humans came. He opened the coop door and made soft human sounds. We knew he was sad, too. He loved her. We knew he loved us all. 

He bent down, moving in to lift her body. We weren’t ready, and frantically squawked our protests. He nodded, and backed away. 

That day we were mostly silent. Sometimes we would leave the coop to get food and water, usually one or two at a time. Mostly we stayed in the circle, warmed by our shared body heat. We watched over her and grieved. 

When our human came back, some of us weren’t ready. But the others reassured them it was time. He lifted her body and was momentarily silhouetted by the glow of the light outside the open coop door. And then they were gone. 

We stared for a while, still in silence. A few cried and others sighed mournfully. 

“Let’s get some air,” I said. 

And we all filed out of the coop, one by one into the sunlight. Life goes on.


I’m reading a new book called Healing Trauma by Philip Levine. It has somatic exercises and I’ve started doing them. So far, tapping and squeezing my body and muscles and becoming conscious of them. I am amazed by how well it’s working. My mood is good, and tonight I sat down to play guitar and I felt like a completely different person. I was aware of what I was doing…I could vary the volume and the roughness of my strumming, and I was able to fingerpick with precision. I have to credit this to the exercises. 

I don’t feel all that chatty tonight, but I wanted to note this because it’s a really big deal for me. Mostly, because it means I’m healing from trauma, but also because I’d like to become skilled at guitar. I’ve felt like I was in a rut in both these areas, so I’m excited. 

I think I’ll write more tomorrow. Reminder to self, talk about starting Prososin!