1,000 Words Does Not Make a Picture

It is my favorite time of the month: the waxing moon.  It will be full today, April 6.

This month it is the Pink Moon, named for the wild ground phlox that we see in early spring.  It might also be called the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Full Fish Moon or the Egg Moon.

When I drive around the ranch at night and see the snow white Cascades glow bright as day under the light of the moon, I wish my phone could take that picture.  Then I realize, that picture is priceless, impossible, not as it really is.

The horses are lit up, especially Hy Note, such that I can see their eyes looking right into mine.  The cats are especially cautious, being more visible as they scout the ranch for nocturnal nibbles.

The pasture is almost bright green.  I could walk out there easily avoiding the holes of the sage rats.  The crisp, defined shadows of the porch posts, the junipers and the towering Ponderosa Pines are quite theatrical.

This morning at 4:30am, I woke up to my heavenly night light, turning my previously darkened room into a reading room.  The moon hangs low enough directly outside my window so that I can see it from my bed as it drenches me and my dreamy pillows in its angelic energy.

The full moon symbolizes endings and completion.  The things we set out for ourselves at the new moon, we can celebrate at the full moon.

Maybe this Full Pink Moon is about Easter eggs, pretty bonnets and colorful Peeps?  After all, Easter is determined according to the full moon.  Did you know this?

This is why the date of Easter changes each year.  The Council of Nicaea, back in A.D. 325, determined Easter would fall on the first Sunday following the first full moon after the vernal equinox.

The Full Pink Moon.  What picture would you paint?

It's Not Easy Waking a Sleeping Chicken

A typical ranch day, if there is such a thing, concludes with counting all six chickens and locking up their pen.

Just before dusk they all make their way back to their hen house and climb in, make a heck of a ruckus organizing themselves, and then they settle in for the night. I count them up just to be sure all have returned, and then close their gate so no night-time predator can create its own ruckus with my hens.

It has been getting darker earlier and I was behind in my evening duties. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 5? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Hmmmmmm. It's Alice. Where is she? It was hard to see and to top it off, Alice is black and white.

I set out calling her, looking in all the places they visit throughout the day, under tree roots, under cars and trailers, in the creek, by the horse snack dishes (see photo.) Was it that monster hawk who got her?

Lately, my hens have been laying their eggs up in my hay bales. They have 4 perfectly comfortable and sheltered nesting boxes, but apparently they've tired of them. For days I was wondering if they had stopped laying eggs as there weren't any in the hen house when I would go collect them. It didn't make sense. My hens weren't quite a year into their laying.

Then one day I followed the hens out of their pen in the morning and watched one head straight for the hay shed, hop up a few bales, climb onto a wood post (see another photo) and then go down between the wood sides and the hay bales and tuck herself into a hole created in the hay bales (see other photo.) When she finally came out, I looked in and found 5 eggs! The jackpot.

So now, I climb in between the wood sides and hay bales and slowly lower myself down as to not catch myself on the snags on the wood and reach in, blindly because the space is so tight I can't turn my head, and retrieve the eggs.

Well, back to this evening of missing Alice. It dawned on me, maybe she's in her nesting spot. I look in from the horse lot beside and there she is, sleeping. I can't leave her there overnight, she'd be exposed to the feral cats, raccoons, and whatever else would climb in to bother a chicken. I couldn't climb in to get her because I had seen Bodie climb in there and a startled chicken fly out and that wasn't pretty on account of the lack of room to maneuver.

So there I stood, on the other side of the posts calling to the sleeping chicken: "Alice!" "Kiss Kiss Kiss" "Wake up girl!" "yooooo hooooo!"

It's not easy to wake a sleeping chicken. In fact, they tell you that the easiest way to catch a chicken or rooster is at night...if you can reach them.

So I took a stick and pushed it through to the hay and got her to perk up a bit. Then I had to scare her to get her out. Ugh. She jumped out, over the bales, down to the ground and ran straight for the hen house--and they can run as fast as 9 mph.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Clink went the gate lock.

Now, we have 6 ducks and a goose. They swim in the pond. Can you imagine what it's like trying to round them up to get them in at night? There is an owl that perches overhead; they seem oblivious. I have spent lots of time going from one end of the pond to the other trying to get them out. And look! They can swim clear to the middle! (see duck photo)

Despite how it may appear, my days are never the same.

Moonlit Sky

Just a moment in ranch life...

Driving down a quiet winding country road keeping an eye out for the deer who travel at dusk, catching a glimpse of a spotted fawn grazing on her preferred tidbits with momma just beyond curled up on the pillow of grass under a tree, the road lined by tall pines and junipers seeming like prison bars along the sides wanting to keep me present with nature and protecting me from an escape to worries beyond, the path guided by the soft yet stark brightness of the full moon, two happy ranch dogs in the back one with his nose propped on the edge of the open window taking in all the scents of outdoor life.