Mic, Marilyn MIchele
Spring green taste is like no other…
The Spring weather is wonky, and chilly here in my region. While faithful early Spring medicinals (herbs & weeds) are fully beginning to be available. Dandelion leaves, plantain leaves, stinging nettle leaves, mullein leaf, and cleavers are set for adding in boiling water.
The taste is undeniable green
and nothing of a surprise.
Nothing exciting either,
simply feeding the body
Expressing to serve, to support or to enhance.
Movements fold in as routines.
One of my older chickens died. Ruby. A marans chicken, of even temperament. She could be seriously broody. But she did the chicken thing, of going to the far end of the chicken run, away from the coupe. Tucking into a small space and letting her breathe end.
She needs to be buried. I have begun the process. She is surrounded in herbs and flowers.
I have dug a substantial hole. I usually bury my chickens under a tree or set of plants.
But I am not sure that this hole is where I want the Christmas tree from this last winter to be. So I may need to dig another hole.
Limits. Choices. Intertwine.