Featherless, skinny and terrified! That’s how hens come out of battery farms assuming they’re still alive. I had no idea that it’s possible to rescue hens – those who have outlived their use and are about to be slaughtered. I also had no idea how delightful it is to have a phalanx of hens (I don’t think thats the right word!) clucking around your feet and happy to come and say hello with a beady twinkle in their eyes.
I am attracting deliciously divine moments up here in the heart of Wales. Yesterday morning I was collected from Old Chapel Farm and brought a few miles away from my yurt home the other side of the Severn river to another magical valley with extraordinarily kind people. I’m in heaven – again! This time meeting this troupe of hens – one called Coco Chanel! I’ll get some photo’s of the mischievous young dog who must have been a pirate in a last life as well as the other four legged creatures.
The earth goddess lies sleeping through the winter right next to the stumpery – a wonderful collection of old tree stumps, and everywhere I look there is something to catch my eye and inspire my heart.
You just never know what’s around the corner when you surrender to the whisper your heart.
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