Lockdown Diaries: Day 8 - Some Days
Some days are harder than others. It's something undeniable, that at times we wake up in the morning with a heavier heart than other days, and it makes it almost impossible to write positive articles. My attempt yesterday started and finished with this sentence:
"I am not feeling very inspired today."
And it can be hard to feel that that's alright, that we are allowed to struggle with what's going on in the world and to always maintain a sense of balance.
What I have been hearing from every single friend and family member that I am in close contact with, is that there is no constancy. There are continual ups and downs. Sometimes it's great fun having the kids at home, other times it's a nightmare. Sometimes social distancing is what we introverts have always dreamed of, sometimes we just want to see a different face. And all of this is okay.
But, seeing as I promised a positive blog, I am working up to write about something that brings me a lot of pleasure.
We have four hens on our tiny little faux croft, here on South Uist (it's a large garden), and they are a delight. Even when I don't see that much wildlife, or when the view out of the window appears grey and dull, the hens are a constant delight. They've had a hard winter, same as us all, and now they just relish spending every moment possible outside, pecking and scratching away and bathing in the dust bowls they've made in opportune places.
There's Hecla, Henny Hen (she's the boss, just now), Dana and wee Daphne (she's the Broon one, geddit?). Yesterday, just after I'd fed them, I saw Hecla sprinting towards the hen house. I think an egg was coming, and it was coming NOW!
One of my favourite times to watch them is when they're relaxed. On Sunday, I spent the morning washing a fleece I have had stored for some time. Joey and I sat outside on the bench, in the weak sunshine and just chatted as I sorted and washed. The hens strutted past, and then came back. Settling down on one of the warmed paving slabs, they relaxed. Shifting slightly so that they were lying on one side, with the uppermost wing stretched out in the warming air, their eyes fluttered closed. It was a moment of complete relaxation, a moment of calm, and they were all in it together. They have an ability to lift their feathers, to allow the sunshine into their skin and I can imagine the feeling, for do we not also do that? When we roll up our sleeves, or bask in the sunshine, the delight we feel must be equal to that of the hens.
We're lucky that we're coming into warmer and brighter days. What a wonderful evening it was last night, the lightness of the air, the days stretching.
Hens know how to make the most of it, and perhaps we could all take a lesson from their simple philosophy. When the sun is shining, relax and just enjoy life.
"I am not feeling very inspired today."
And it can be hard to feel that that's alright, that we are allowed to struggle with what's going on in the world and to always maintain a sense of balance.
What I have been hearing from every single friend and family member that I am in close contact with, is that there is no constancy. There are continual ups and downs. Sometimes it's great fun having the kids at home, other times it's a nightmare. Sometimes social distancing is what we introverts have always dreamed of, sometimes we just want to see a different face. And all of this is okay.
But, seeing as I promised a positive blog, I am working up to write about something that brings me a lot of pleasure.
We have four hens on our tiny little faux croft, here on South Uist (it's a large garden), and they are a delight. Even when I don't see that much wildlife, or when the view out of the window appears grey and dull, the hens are a constant delight. They've had a hard winter, same as us all, and now they just relish spending every moment possible outside, pecking and scratching away and bathing in the dust bowls they've made in opportune places.
There's Hecla, Henny Hen (she's the boss, just now), Dana and wee Daphne (she's the Broon one, geddit?). Yesterday, just after I'd fed them, I saw Hecla sprinting towards the hen house. I think an egg was coming, and it was coming NOW!
One of my favourite times to watch them is when they're relaxed. On Sunday, I spent the morning washing a fleece I have had stored for some time. Joey and I sat outside on the bench, in the weak sunshine and just chatted as I sorted and washed. The hens strutted past, and then came back. Settling down on one of the warmed paving slabs, they relaxed. Shifting slightly so that they were lying on one side, with the uppermost wing stretched out in the warming air, their eyes fluttered closed. It was a moment of complete relaxation, a moment of calm, and they were all in it together. They have an ability to lift their feathers, to allow the sunshine into their skin and I can imagine the feeling, for do we not also do that? When we roll up our sleeves, or bask in the sunshine, the delight we feel must be equal to that of the hens.
We're lucky that we're coming into warmer and brighter days. What a wonderful evening it was last night, the lightness of the air, the days stretching.
Hens know how to make the most of it, and perhaps we could all take a lesson from their simple philosophy. When the sun is shining, relax and just enjoy life.
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