Chickens. What has my life come to? Really!
In a former life I would have blogged about a random act of humanitarianism I might have witnessed on Market street, an interesting conversation I had with a old socialite on a park bench in North beach, perhaps a fascinating art show or display at a museum. Maybe a page about the angst of single-to long –girl-in-city syndrome, painful pumps, or how it felt to say “my husband” the first time. I could wistfully wax on about the low moan of the fog horns that gave me a sense of place as I fell asleep at night, or I could go on and on about the struggle to explain homelessness to myself and how I ever managed to walk past a human being hungry on the street, daily.
But that was then, this is now.
I live on Kauai, a green speck in a big blue ocean. The most remote island on earth, except we do have an airport and a steady stream of Aloha clad tourist that sustain us after the demise of the sugar industry. Far removed from anything remotely sophisticated I now muse to my embarrassment – OFTEN- about the latest antics of my children’s chickens. My children were spawned on Kauai, two feral creatures with sharply honed hunting skills leaving few geckos and lizards on our property untouched by human hands. Catch and release is the sport of choice, though not always releasing them with their tails intact.
At 5:30 in the morning it is apparent why Kauai is such a special place. The cacophony of roosters belt out their territorial “Marco Polo”-game of crowing the day into existence. Similar to the cows in India – they live a charmed life of wandering the beaches and parks for leftover picnic scraps, or dining on dog and cat food left out in neighborhoods, without the threat of becoming a picnic them selves. Their territories are staked out and they stand vigil along the roads, the paths, the jungles even, waiting for opportunity and for feathered challengers while they busily point their tail feathers skyward eating bugs they have carefully kicked out from undergrowth and leaves.
And so it begins.
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