This kind of back yard reverie reminds me of Annie Dillard's, On Tinkers Creek and I am thinking that I need to read it again. I guess that we are all craving fresh air and sunshine after a very long winter and I am connecting with the rest of nature in this rediscovery of the world around. This connection feeds my humanity and makes things feel as though they are assuming their proper place. The hens are a little jittery at the birds so close by and they are clustering around my legs. They have had a few unpleasant encounters with the hawk who is not at all phased by my presence. She swoops at them right in front of me and sits in my tree boldly facing me down. I have mixed feelings about it, it is rare for them to be so bold with humans and I like that it has come to know me, but I feel guilty feeding the birds as this only encourages the hawk and it keeps the chickens sticking under the bushes and trees. Sigh, my fingers are getting stiff with cold so I must end and help the chickens back over the snow.
Post Script - the chickens were each happily carried back home and I am about to put my feet up too with the pleasant tired that comes from all that sunshine and fresh air.