Animal Projections

Our neighbors took off for the weekend and we are watching their little chicks. The unfamiliar glow of their warming lamp drew me into the greenhouse late last night and there they were wide-eyed and chasing light-thirsty moths in their newspaper lined plastic tub. I felt sorry for them. If they had a mama hen certainly they'd be nestled in the dark feathery down of wings long ago. 

All our chicks hatched under the warmth of body heat rather than in an incubator. They have only known straw and feathers.  Their ever-protective mama hen provides the only limit to their unbounded exploration and foraging. And at the end of the day they dart behind her as she settles in to her nest and the darkness.

Oh the joy of projecting my life onto small creatures...some people call this metaphor. Others call it narcissism (tough word to spell). I prefer to think myself...insightful. But I digress.


We've all had moments in our lives when we've felt like the motherless chicks. And we also know the security and freedom of the free-wheeling, unrestrained chicks. Contrasting the two reminds me what I'm working towards: bringing compassion to places that feel scared and in need of gentle strength and seeking that independent nurtured flow. 

This weekend I climbed Mnt. Lamborn with four little girls. I was a little worried because I tend to hike fast and actually struggle to take things slowly (Crazy here is working on that one) and little kids like to stop every five minutes. But most of the time they stop because they've found something cool or because they are curious. And even a crazy like me can see that's worth slowing down for.

I didn't ditch the kids at the bottom! We all made it up, even the seven year-old. 

Meggie's cherry cobbler with Borrage--Monday brunch with the ladies <3