When I am gone housesitting, I still come back twice a day, to feed and play with the cat, and now the chicks. The cat was not happy that I was gone. She would turn her back, nip my fingers and be contemptuous as only a cat can be. That was then. Last night she, quite simply, quite calmly, pushed as close as she could get and stayed in bed with me the whole night through. Of course, with us, that mean until about 4 a.m.
The chicks have been moved into the big house. After an initial 'what what what' series of frantic peeps, they started exploring, checking out the new digs from corner to corner and as high up as they could jump. Until dusk, when suddenly, it was very big. Peeps of oh no! sounded as they huddled together in a corner I'd fixed up for them to do just that. The last stroke of sun quit the sky and silence. Chickens are funny that way. Of course, around here, chickens never know what time is proper to make noise, but I intend my chickens to be as the chicken god intended. Quiet in the dark. Yes.
The other day I headed down to the beach for sunset. There were a few others there, some winding up a beachy afternoon, some there for the same reason as me, to watch the sun go down, the sky go painted, the water go metallic. And it did.
|Beach chair (you won't find this in Walmart)|
|When was the last time you played with water?|
|Beach moon surface|
|Ahhhh, there goes the sky|