My Dad Taught Me to Bark...life lessons

 A hawk tried to swoop in and chicken-nap one of our chickens this morning.

Fortunately for them, I happened to be cleaning the windows in my bedroom that look out over the backyard.

I started barking, like my dad taught me.  (Where's the dog when you need her?)

I ran outside, only able to count 6 of the 8 hens.  Pearl would be able to give you their breed, names, and owners.  I just knew that it looked like we were missing some white ones.

It got me thinking, however.  This is a fragile life.  We are all precariously walking that line between existence here and existence beyond, perhaps some closer to the side of beyond than others, but either way. you just. never. know.

Yet, the funny thing is, we shouldn't be afraid.  As I was cleaning those windows, there was a dead bug on the edge of the window and Olive shrieked.  I nonchalantly flicked it off and told her there was absolutely no reason to be scared.  

I think I was talking more to myself than her, the realization of all the things in my head, those big, fancy dreams of mine, tend to just stay there.  They're frozen in the fear that I'll fail, or that I'll be mocked, or that it won't be as grand in real life as it is in my head.

I'd like to think that I will finish cleaning my windows and begin executing on my dreams.  I probably won't, but at least I've taken a step closer to them.  At the very least, I will love a little deeper, savor the moments of contentment a little longer, and pick my battles a lot more carefully.

By the way, the two missing hens were laying low until the danger passed.  They emerged and joined their squabbling sisters much to all our relief.

(PS These shots are from our quick trip to Tennessee.  I left a bit of my heart in the Smokies.  I also taught my girls the art of smashing little rocks with big rocks to reveal sparkling centers.  I think they enjoyed this little pit-stop lesson as much as the actual trip ;)

 That there is another lesson for another time. ;)