The Chickens Were Nervous This Morning!

The week has started off on an anxious note. The chickens were nervous this morning. A hawk lurking in the yard landed on the pool umbrella stand about 100 feet from the coop and stayed there for some time. No doubt he's hungry and thought breakfast chicken would be a good start to the day. Larry was opening up the coop when he saw him. 

We don't let the chicks out to free range until late afternoon because of predators. They roam the screened chicken yard during the day. Apparently their nerves upset them enough this morning that they ignored the treat Larry brought and hunkered down under the coop. 

The last time they were in the yard and a hawk came, I was looking out the window and immediately went out and chased him away. That day the chickens hid in the bushes not willing to risk being out in the open. I had a hard time coaxing them out and back into the coop even as Twilight descended. Fear of the hawk is the beginning of wisdom for a chicken. 

Speaking of the hawk, I got a good look at him because he landed on the bird feeder outside the office window and stayed there for several minutes: very gray with yellow legs. I think it was a Northern Goshawk. I wish I'd had time to snap a photo. I guessed at first it was a gray hawk, but that seems unlikely because their habit is mainly the southwestern U.S., Mexico, and Central America, although there is a small gray hawk listed in North Carolina. The hawk I saw seemed on the larger size so I think my hungry visitor was the Northern Goshawk who likes to inhabit woodlands and old growth forests. Since we live on the edge of the George Washington National Forest it wouldn't be surprising. I may not let the chickens out today. We are getting few enough eggs from our seven girls with the winter weather, so we're protective of our little flock. I plan to get more baby chicks in the Spring. It takes about three months before they begin laying, but they are great fun to watch as they grow.

Having chickens makes me more aware of Jesus weeping over Jerusalem and saying:

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered together thy children, as the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and thou wouldest not? 3

We don't have a rooster so we never get to see the mother hen gathering her chicks, but we have one hen, an Orpington, who would love to be a mom and goes broody several times during the spring and summer. Talk about mama bears. She gets very aggressive and puffs up to intimidate her sisters as if to say, "Don't even think about bothering my babies when they come." Poor Buttercup. If she's broody when we get the baby chicks maybe we'll try introducing them to her at night and let her be an adoptive mama. 

Thinking about Jesus with the protectiveness and tenderness for his little chicks and lost lambs makes me want to prostrate myself before Him in love and thanksgiving. God is Abba, our daddy. I lament with little St. Francisco saying, "Love is not loved. I want to comfort the hidden Jesus." And I also want to remember that nothing can hurt us when we are close to the cross with Christ. He is our help and protection, a rock of refuge. We need not fear the hawks in the sky or the serpents slithering on the ground or the terrors of the night when we walk with Jesus. And if we put our hands in Mary's she will lead us straight to her Son saying, "Do whatever he tells you."