We are moving.

As we slowly leave this place I feel the energies and protections of this place starting to crumble and fall away.  For years, Joe has told me that when I am gone for more that two days the energy starts to shift and he feels spirits start to mess with him – playing with the temp in the shower and looking at him from shadows.  I know those spirits, we have an Agreement, but as we spend less and less time here the Agreement starts to falter.

In the last few weeks it has become clear that the new house has no place for our chickens.  We talked about who could take them and we have a few friends with chickens. I wasn’t worried, but as we started hearing back from people that they didn’t have the extra room I found myself saying, “we need to get rid of these chickens!  I have to clean out the garage before we can put the house on the market, time is passing and we have to get rid of the chickens!”  Something heard and for the first time in seven years something got into the garage and killed our chickens, three of four have been killed in the last two days. I’ve tried to close the gaps and places anything could get in – I have failed.

I sit here, writing and feeling like a coward.  Last night there was one chicken left, a rescue found in a suburban yard. I’m not quite ready to go see if she is ok.

Ok, I’m ready.

…

I just buried the remains of our last chicken.  She was a gentle red hen, often picked on by the bigger, feistier girls.

To our chickens, our girls:  Thank you.  Thank you for your eggs that nourished us.  Thank you for your poop that nourished the garden.  Thank you for the funny chicken stories I got to tell.  Thank you for making this lovely place feel more like the “urban micro-farm” I’ve called it half in jest.  Thank you.

To the creature that killed and ate our chickens, our girls:  I can’t be mad.  I hope you were quick and efficient and I hope you gained needed sustenance from the odd, charming, loud and messy tiny dinosaurs who lived in our garage coop for the last few years.  Maybe I should thank you for doing what I would not have done and solving a small problem in my life and in my move… I’m not quite that evolved, but I will work on it.

I will also be more careful of what I ask for as the Agreement at this place passes from me to the next steward of this land.