Three Things I’ve Learned from my Chickens

As writers, we know that one aspect of writing well is writing authentically. By that I mean we have to follow the rules of the reality we are writing about, whatever they may be. The rules governing Middle Earth are a little different than those in Narnia, for example. If we are writing about our own world, here on planet Earth, 2023, one practice that can help us write authentically is the habit of being observant of the world around us, so that we can convey those small details in our stories. In fact, being observant might even lead to a new understanding.

What does any of this have to do with chickens, you might ask? Doesn’t the title of this article signify something having to do with those small animals? Besides, I’m not saying anything new in that opening paragraph.

Let me begin, then, by saying that I never intended to become “the chicken lady” of my neighborhood. When my husband called from work one day, saying that a colleague had no further need of 4 unhatched baby chicks and did I think we could take them in for a while, I said “Sure” simply because I like animals and couldn’t stand the thought of those little chickies being – literally – thrown away. That was about the extent of my thinking.

Fast forward a year and a half later, and we now have 5 stout ladies who take up a third of our backyard. And they are delightful. I have become thoroughly attached to them. Through observing them closely these past several months, I’ve also learned a few things. Here are 3 of them.

Habits can produce happiness.

My hens follow the same routine every day. They wake up with the sunrise, then run out to munch on the food I give them. It is always the same food, but they are nevertheless excited to see it every morning. They spend the rest of the day alternating between scratching for bugs, chatting with each other and resting. At 7pm each evening, they gather by their gate and call for their nightly visit. I bring them some rice or a little bread and we spend time together. After a few more sips of water, and a little extra scratching, they put themselves to bed at dusk. They follow this same routine every day. They witness to the importance of good daily habits, of doing a little bit consistently over time, every day. I often wonder what I could get done if I was such a creature of routine.

2. Don’t be afraid to try.

Even though my hens are quite content in their pen, that doesn’t mean they don’t look up and notice the green grass and fresh flowers blooming in other parts of the yard. They are always up for new ways to escape their yard to get to greener pastures. (In fact, I am convinced that whoever wrote the script for the movie Chicken Run really did have chickens.) Our Rhode Island Red, Cocoa, makes a point of pushing on the garden gate at least once an hour, just in case it has been left open. Our silver Welbar, Sandy, learned exactly where to stand so that she could fly up and just reach the tip of the fence, push off with her foot, and propel herself into the grass. They also know our habits, and often try to follow the dogs in and out. I think they hope we won’t notice an extra pair of legs. Even though they appreciate their home, they’re never afraid to push on the gate one more time or keep an eye out for another weak spot in the fence. They remind me not to get too complacent, but to keep looking up and trying.

3. Appreciate your community.

My little flock did not choose each other, but they’ve formed themselves into a community nevertheless. Although they are all different types of hens, they get along. Yes, there is certainly a pecking order (Sandy is at the top) but there is still room for everyone, despite their various temperaments. For example, Pebbles, our black Australorp, tends to get broody and take over the nesting box, while Pepper, a light Brahma and the smallest of the five chickens, likes to make up for her small size by being feisty and pecking everyone, including the dogs. Occasionally there are some ruffled feathers but most of the time there are contented, chatty clucks and check-ins, and at the end of the day they all go into the hen house and sleep peacefully together. If I’ve had a hard day with a difficult person, I really notice their ability to not hold a grudge and to let bygones be bygones. It reminds me that I might not always want to spend a lot of time around a certain person or persons, but I don’t have to take everything personally and I don’t have to carry resentment with me every day. (And I’m always somewhat flabbergasted that the hens consider our two pitties part of their community!)

These are a few of the conclusions I’ve come to over the last few months, in the mornings with my coffee watching them greet the new day, and in the evenings as the sun is setting. As I mentioned above, close observation of the world around us helps us to be better writers, and maybe even better people. These five little ladies are speaking to me all the time. Is there something that speaks to you in your life? What do you closely observe? And is it changing you?

Featured image from iStock-chicken (3)

Sarah Pedrozo

Sarah Pedrozo has worked in Parish Ministry for almost 20 years. She lives and writes from central Texas, where the Texas Hill Country terrain and wildlife is a source of continual inspiration. A life-long lover of books and the many forms of communication, she is currently working on a doctorate in Romantic Theology.