As soon as the snow melted, the chickens escaped the penitentiary–I mean, chicken yard–and had a swell time scratching in the mulch. (If you look carefully, you’ll notice the chicken wire in this photo is much newer than the previous photo.) Also, you can see weeds poking through the mulch. Not only was the layer of organic material too thin and the paper layer perhaps too gappy, but there is nothing stopping the grass from insinuating itself into the bed from the other side of the fence. But the plants made it through the winter, despite being planted very late in the fall (for around here) and the chickens uncovering their roots as they hunted for tasty morsels.
If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It’s a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it’s time to reflect on what’s come before.
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