Sometimes the Circle of Life is a Real Jerk

   Well...I said we'd be talking about death didn't I? Both poults that hatched out are deceased and it is unlikely we will get any more from Blucinda's clutch. I found one this afternoon soggy and stiff so it was most likely the victim of the turbulent weather last night. The other I found just a little bit ago still in the hut but this one was rather weak to begin with so it wasn't entirely unexpected.

   I don't like anything going to waste here so I borrow my death ritual from ancient Tibetan and Siberian tribes. I bring my deceased creatures far out into the field well away from the bird yard and lay them on the earth for scavengers to utilize. It is called a sky burial. The resting place for my first two tiny babies born here is under a patch of wild plum in full fragrant bloom. I think they would have liked that spot.

   Yes I get sentimental about untimely deaths. Yes I allow myself to mourn the moment, the swift judgement of nature, and the what could have beens. Yes these birds are bred to be utilized for meat for my family and so their lives are finite, just as any wild turkey will most likely wind up as someone's meal. But I believe when we can no longer allow ourselves to shed a tear for little lives ended too soon we stop taking responsibility for our potential part in it and so miss out on opportunities for growth.

  I'm already planning for next year's hatching season. Step one will be better nesting areas. I'm toying with the idea of hauling in natural brush or maybe even planting a low bush or two. We have our eye on a trio of Narragansett turkeys which are my very favorite so hopefully that will increase our hen population. For meat this year I think we will purchase some broad breasted poults.

   I will also be upgrading the incubator as the only hope we currently have for successful chicks of any kind are the red golden pheasants under their mama Artemis. I still believe bird butts are the best incubators and make for strong bird babies but as we can see from this spring it's always good to cover your bases.

  But that is in the future. Tonight we are sad and will allow ourselves to be sad. Tomorrow will dawn and I will have tales of morels (fingers crossed!) and plum blossom magic for you. Rest well, little ones. There are many hungry mouths to feed during spring in the forest, your physical shells will not go to waste.