New Feathers

As 2010 has launched with fanfare and fireworks, I’ve been scanning the past year and one (of many) chapters stands out.  It’s the Chicken Chapter, when I adopted a newly hatched fluffy chick named BeBe, moved her into my shower,which she called home, until 3 or 4 months later when I moved her to Drina’s farm.

A friend had found a newly hatched chick abandoned in her driveway.  My friend organized the equipment (cooler, lights, wood shavings) and I became the adoptive parent.  The most memorable and literally heartwarming part of this early relationship was that I carried BeBe in my camisole (the kind with the shelf bra) and she settled in.  I worked at my computer, played the piano and only barely heard her contented peeps as she stayed warm, close to my heart.

I had the pleasure of watching her fluff turn to feathers and her legs get thicker and tougher until one day she had enough lift to fly out of the cooler and walk around my cottage.  As you may guess the whole situation started to turn messy.  She followed me everywhere and roosted on my shoulder.  My cocketiel was jealous and flew to the other shoulder, shooting dirty looks at the bigger but younger, more demanding fowl.  The dogs just rolled their eyes. They’ve gotten used to the random assortment of species that have been part of our family over the years.

I loved BeBe and I was very ready for her to move out.  After considering getting a coop and raising chickens, I was overjoyed to find a farm home and company for BeBe and greatly relieved to have my small home back to its original house-trained population.

This past Saturday, I stopped to visit BeBe for the first time since I’d dropped her off.  Drina led me to the back of the farm and past amazing looking hens and roosters to a large cage where she pointed out BeBe -“the most spoiled chicken in the bunch”.  She looked beautiful: shiney black  with a shimmering brown tint to her wing feathers.  When I called her name, she seemed to vaguely remember something and turned my way.

I took her picture and, in my mind’s eye, compared her to the fluffy chick of back when.  I thought of all the nurturing that had saved her life, helped her to thrive and become who she was meant to be.  Then I thought of the photo of me with BeBe tucked into my cleavage.  I could see how she had changed but how I have transformed?  I thought about how I’ve been nurtured and grown. I felt like I should have feathers to show for it.  I started thinking in terms of new foliage and bigger wing-span, better top notch, bigger cage and free ranging farther and deeper.

In my year end completion exercise one of the most important parts is to look back over the past year and acknowledge every little success as well as the bigger milestones and achievments.  Focusing on all that has been accomplished inside and out: improving a relationship, starting to practice Yoga, forgiving someone, cleaning out the closets etc….

If every win was a feather –  what would you look like?  Would your head-dress be carnival worthy?  How high will your wings carry you?  How boldly will you strut your stuff.

Here’s to fluffing your feathers and taking flight.  I am.  Remember, you gotta flap ’em to fly.

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