Purring Chickens

The wood shed is almost empty (and still so much winter to get through!), so now when I bring in wood I’m looking out on the chicken run where it backs onto the woodshed.

There are lights on in the chicken run all the time. They only need 14 hours of light a day to keep laying, but the timer is packed away somewhere. If I’m getting wood late at night, I get to watch the chickens at their evening routine. Most of them are dozing on the roosts or on the ground. A few are poking around the run, doing chicken things.

And they are purring. Just a soft cooing under their breath. It’s pure contentment. I stand there in the shelter of the woodshed, in the cold quiet night, and listen to them. I love my life.

A daily dose of brilliant conversation

My mother has always been able to carry on a brilliant conversation with anyone about anything. Her secret? A sharp mind and a sense of wonder, of curiosity. Let’s say you sat her down with a high level researcher in, hmmm, energy production from algae. To be clear, Mom knows nothing about energy production from algae. Her formal education ended with high school graduation. Her gift is that curiosity, and the brilliance.

She’ll ask questions like “how do you choose which algaes to use? Do some environments produce better candidates than others?” or “are there advantages as far as storing and transporting the energy?” The researcher, typically, has a great time discussing the intricacies of the research. And if they talk very long, my mom will ask a question that suggests a subtle shift in approach. For days after, she’ll be buzzing about all the new ideas, new implications.

This being my mom, I get to talk to her a lot. It’s a delight and a feast for my mind. Today was typical:

We talked about the pervasiveness of music across human cultures. We speculated on which came first, music or speech (we both favor music). She mentioned a stag that had come up to the window of the dining hall at her apartment building while a cellist was playing for the residents. The stag stood outside the window and listened to the music, then eventually moved on. We considered the implications of this sort of effect of music on non-human animals. Just how deep does the importance of music go? Deeper than our humanness, apparently.

She mention an interview she’d seen on the Charlie Rose show, in which Dick Martin had said that in television and also in written stories it is often important to show things through the eyes of an observer. A skit that would flop on its own would succeed if an observer were included. Why is that? From there, we discussed the effect of the simple witnessing of beauty. There is witnessing beauty and then propagating it in some way of course. Georgia O’Keefe sees a flower, and makes others see it too in all its sensuality. But even the simple witnessing of beauty is a powerful thing, bringing it more into the world. It changes the witness, and that effects the rest of us.

She mentioned that she’s notice that when she makes eye contact with someone while she’s talking it’s generally just one eye. The right one. She hasn’t yet identified whether she looks at the same eye when she’s listening, but it’s an interesting question. Is there any significance of one eye over the other?

We talked along these lines for about an hour. I grew up with conversations like this. We explored the world over cookies and milk when I got home from school. How society functions, how brains are wired, how to sew a collar that lays smoothly, why people are ever cruel  — it was all part of everyday conversation.

I discovered this evening that this wonderful, bright woman had no idea how rare this is. That I do not, in fact, get to have conversations like this with most of the people I know. That she is the only person I know for whom this is the flavor of everyday conversation.  “Really??” she says. “I thought all you young people would be talking like this all the time.”

How about you? What is the flavor of your conversations, when you are hanging out, maybe having a cup of coffee? Because I would really, really like to have conversations around wonder, news from the sciences, implications and possibilities.

Who is that goat in the banner?

That is Rosie, a year or so ago, trimming a hedge by the front drive. She’s head doe of a herd of two. Well, two goats. They generously include other species in their herd. The chickens have honorary membership. I make it in too.

In fact, I had to wrestle with this goat one day last summer. Those horns can do some damage, especially with 120 – 150 pounds of strong goat behind them, and I couldn’t get away from her until I’d managed to lay her down on the ground. (Tip: hold onto a horn with one hand, and pull a hind foot out from under her with the other.)

We’ve been on friendly terms ever since. I really don’t know whether she was fighting me for dominance or whether she was just in A Mood. She was showing some signs of being in heat, and that could explain it.  Even the nicest colleagues can be a pain in the butt when hormones mess with their heads.