the practice of keeping chickens
But nightwatch with the birds is my favorite. I love the last check right before bed. I go outside with the same boots and warm coat as in the morning, but it's after a long day at work, a walk with the dogs, and a healthy meal. I'm tired and have a content stomach. I grab my lantern and walk into the night, which in rural areas is black and dark without the luxury of streetlamps or neighbors windows. My eyes darting for fisher cats or a fox in the brush. Sometimes I see one and yell, shaking the beams of the lantern in the rucus.
Needing to bed them down means I get to breathe in fresh dark air, see the stars, and smell a mix of wet leaves and burning fireplaces from other cabins in the village. Three things I am grateful to do, and those birds make sure I do it every night.
But besides being outside with a purpose, keeping chickens means taking care of something, knowing that they rely on you for protection and food and their general well being. It feels really nice to provide that. It really does. And it's not all giving either - the ability to collect fresh eggs, a source of protein that doesn't require taking their lives, is unique and special to the hens. I don't know many other bi-species relationships that can offer feelings of responsibility, enjoyment, and a killer slab of French toast. Well maybe ducks, but we all know ducks are assholes.
So chickens, thanks.