Ode to the Chickens

My friend Sarah showed me the pictures:

A beautiful blue orb

A speckled brown-almost-green oval.

All the credit goes to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

She shared that Ron is actually Ron 2, as the local raccoons got Ron 1, poor thing. I was shocked, but giggling too. It's to be expected, raising chickens.

The chickens had changed her, 

gave her a summer focus, a reason to research, 

to find curiosity and caregiving away from the intensity of her teaching life.

She was already an expert in my eyes,

clucking right back to them, 

explaining their sleep schedule,

finding them perfect treats,

noticing that they hear her sliding door open and know she's coming to them,

and I admire the coop she built - she built! - making a home for laying eggs.

The funny thing is, Sarah doesn't eat eggs.

So she's

making meals for her son and husband,

bartering with her neighbor,

smiling at the irony, 

showing me the blue and speckled brown-almost-green eggs

with a mother's pride.