ONE GOOD DAY

Observations from an Old Farmhouse

I watched the sunrise this morning, as usual, poured a cup of coffee and just sat down for a change.

The sun rise is fast, but time moves slow when you stop to witness its splendor.

Many of the neighboring cows have calves now, little babies frolicking like school children that were allowed to be kids, to play, no worries, just a picture of joy.

I remember when I first moved into this old farmhouse and a not-so-good picture came before me one morning.

We’d had an abnormally cold week, below freezing temps which we aren’t equipped for, and my water pipes froze and cracked, the electricity was out. I scooped up snow outside to flush the toilet and used my wood burning stove for heat. It was more of an adventure than not.

I didn’t watch the sunrise that week and I didn’t have my chickens and ducks yet to check on, so I was bundled up inside catching up on some reading.

I learned a hard lesson. I learned that no matter the weather, get up and walk around, make sure the property is secured, and the all are ok.

After the storm died down, I finally made my way outside only to find next to my barn a white baby calf that had got lost, found its way on my property, probably couldn’t find its way back and it froze to death. I called the foreman of the ranch, and he came to get the baby that apparently had been missing.

Watching the babies this morning reminds me of that day. I know it seems sad and weird to associate the worst day with the best, but it gave me new eyes to see how fragile life can be at times, how important it is to maintain connection with our surroundings and the beauty of life.

I get mad at God sometimes. Why give us life if it’s only going to be taken away so soon?  Freezing to death certainly can’t be a good way to go, a slow shut down. :(

By the same token I watch the 4 baby chicks I have right now galivanting around pecking and scratching and it seems they grow leaps and bounds by the day.

I learned another lesson the hard way. I learned that if you are going to let a hen be broody AND hatch eggs, separate them and add a counter to the eggs, otherwise new eggs get added to the nest and it is hard to keep track. Also, the hen will stay there so long she starts to lose weight as they won’t eat as much when broody, they just stay on that nest 24/7.

The 3^rd baby that hatched I found face planted on the ground. I don’t know if it fell from too high or was pushed out of the nest, rejected.  In the case of rejection, I moved it to the other hen with chicks.  It was accepted but just couldn’t keep up. Struggling to stand I put it under a heat lamp and it regained energy. I was so happy, and it had ONE GOOD DAY with the other 3 chicks…for ONE day it was standing and mixing with everyone, she looked so happy, so proud, she tried so hard….and then she was gone.

I buried her and sent her on her way. It made me wonder is ONE GOOD DAY all we ever need? Is ONE GOOD DAY enough?

The next week I found another dead baby chick in a nest and the mom walking all over another one with the egg half opened, trampling on it…. two more graves to dig.

Meanwhile my dog caught 2 groundhogs digging up the yard and we fed them to the vultures. Ah she’s the groundskeeper of life and death, the great balancer and doesn’t even know it.

I think maybe people unconsciously avoid connecting with nature sometimes because it forces awareness of mortality, it reminds us that life can be brutal…so people move to the cities and pretend in a game of make-believe that that isn’t so…but if you really look around at our society, it’s brutal too…the most civilized of sorts are often the most barbaric and the most barbaric are sometimes the most civilized….both revere life in their own way, yet avoid a piece of it that asks us to look at something we don’t want to see.

Re-connecting with nature is re-connecting with death AND life.

It hardens your heart and opens it wide at the same time.

It forces faith in something greater and invites in a deepened responsibility for yourself and those in your care.

It asks us to be better stewards of the land, better observers, better guardians…better.

It asks us to stop and appreciate life, to honor what has left us and to rejoice in this life if ever we’ve had just ONE GOOD DAY.

Maybe that little baby calf had ONE GOOD DAY, I know the little chick that could…did.

Holding that little life in my hand I could feel the life force waning, it’s as if it just couldn’t stick to her, it wouldn’t take hold.

This old farmhouse has reminded me that we’re a society who needs to grieve a lot more, because if we don’t weep the walls have to weep for us, the earth has to prepare itself for the damn of tears that will come when it can’t be held inside anymore, inside the walls of our homes…and hearts.

I was holding a duck in my arms and being water animals, I can tell you something about their energy will touch your emotions…you just have to sit still enough to realize each aspect of nature is showing us how to live.

From the rooster crowing to the birds singing, from the ducks dipping their head in water to the cows mooing, wisdom surrounds us, but humankind forgets…. exchanges wisdom for egoic intellectual endeavors, seeks to discover scientifically what has already been known for ages because these things need not a lab or a study, the answers are already in our bones…

Watch the animals. Observe the wisdom being revealed.

Watch the sunrise. Observe the nature of time standing still and feel the rays penetrating your lens.

Watch your surroundings. Observe the walls around you, the whispers from the closet, the reflection in the mirror.

Nature is brutal AND beautiful.

Be grateful if ever you’ve had just ONE GOOD DAY….

My wish for you is that you have one good day every day…but all we can do is wake up and take it one day at a time, step by step…

and don’t forget to grieve along the way, for joy waits in the wings of our tears.

With love and coffee,

~ Angela