It has been suggested that using the saddest song in the world as a title is depressing (previous post). There is nothing depressing about this post.
First our chickadees were in a box, then a laundry basket, then a special crate made to keep our cat away.
We kept our crate in the closet in the guest room. Our out of town guests this weekend will be happy (or disappointed?) to know we moved them outside already. But for the few days they were living in the closet, DKIW would gather her snacks and water and sit in the closet watching them for hours. HOURS. Who needs TV? She spent the entire time asking, "What are they telling me now?" To which we started making up more and more outlandish things their constant peeping meant.
Now they are outside in their new chicken coop. It is huge. Large enough for us to walk inside. The experts state that its good to handle them (gently) when they are small to help them grow comfortable with humans. You don't have to tell me twice. There is something incredibly calming and warm about being in a small house filled with fresh straw and baby chicks. They are already hopping up the little ladder and making little pecking orders with their chicken friends. It's lovely to keep chicks.
It's just warm love. And its everpresent everywhere. -Van Morrison