on chickens (and on being a chicken)

Over the weekend Wren made fast friends with these feathered ladies up on a mountain.  It was a busy couple of days with lots of new faces and long, cramped car rides and general excitement.  Yet even with all that activity Wren only seems to remember feeding these chickens.  And then walking to the garden afterward.  I hear her talking to herself several times a day saying "chicken food" and "walk garden".   

Our pace hasn't slowed much since then.  I'm still making final preparations for the sale this weekend (and sending out a few more Etsy orders!), and Luke is readying himself for some inspiration and camaraderie at the sustainable farming event he'll be attending.  And thrown into the mix has been increased energy and dreaming about future plans with our dear friends.  

I am beginning to recognize my innate gift to dream wildly, and then recoil in fear at the first sign of change.  Change.  The unknown.  It scares me.  And so this week I've watched my mind run frantically between hope and trepidation, and I'm trying to feel safe with the in-limbo process of discerning and deciding.

I've only been an adult-person for a few years I suppose, but the one thing I've learned is that the only constant thing is change.  And when I just let go and accept that things inevitably shift and alter, I am more at peace and more able to recognize the good stuff right there in front of me.