New Tractor

Tonight was the first time since finishing and fueling (loading with birds) the new chicken tractor that I've had my camera with me. Here are some long exposures of it with the older one under a full moon. I like the modified design much better (lighter/cheaper/stronger) and should have plans and a cost breakdown up here soon, especially now that I'm able to clone myself (look closely at the bottom photo).

Sunday

There was a great early fall or late summer fog-enshrouded sunrise last week on the farm.


Here's a story...of a lovely chicken...



The second chicken tractor is coming along nicely. I'm trying to make it lighter and cheaper than the first one. If I find the time I'll draw out the plans and provide price and materials lists for the two versions here on the website. It's surprisingly difficult to find free online plans for such things.

Chicken Tractor, ver. 1.0

It's up! and the K22's seem happy with their new digs. I spent most of today putting some finishing touches on it, sitting and watching the chicks explore the space, and planting a few seeds in the garden.




Here's the sunset as enjoyed from the highway between Oppelo and Morrilton on Saturday. That bump on the right is Petit Jean Mountain.


Dad helped with most of the construction.

Chicks

I took these pics tonight. The big guys are going out on pasture tomorrow if all goes as planned.

St. Andrew

Here are a few pictures from work on Wednesday at the Cathedral of St. Andrew in Little Rock. We made some plans regarding how the four pieces of the Last Supper window are going to be reinstalled and then placed the top half of the Sacred Heart glass in the cathedral.



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Rhythm

The rain held off long enough last weekend to allow me to take advantage of some sun-lit free time and go for my first bike ride since I've been back in Arkansas. I pedaled across the river from Morrilton, through Oppelo, and up the front side of Petit Jean Mountain to the overlook, a mostly flat round trip of about 24 miles with a tough little 1.5 mile climb at the midway point. The time spent ticking the miles away led me to ponder the cycles and rhythms of this place. After three years away from Arkansas I had forgotten how much I enjoy the connections felt when propelling myself across the countryside. Every undulation of the road takes on new meaning; you become keenly aware of changes in wind velocity around trees and hills and across fields and water; the varrying terrain combines very directly with the beating of your heart and your pumping legs to determine how quickly your bicycle moves and how comfortably you make it happen; you notice clouds and the sun. Everything really starts to flow after a while and you begin to make minute adjustments without any conscious effort. Your body just seems to know. As you ride the same routes over an extended period of time you begin to notice differences between outings as the seasons transition between one another.

This sense of deeper rhythms, the coarse-grained signals of life, has been slowly sinking in to me since I returned. From the bike rides to honing my new-found skills in the stained glass studio, to working with the chickens and digging in the dirt, I've been noticing the importance of embracing rhythms and trying to align my physical actions with my surroundings and the nature of the materials and tools I work with. I've been trying for three years to put into words what I missed about Arkansas, and now I think I'm closer to understanding it. For me the noise from the constant bombardment of finer-grained signals blocked my observation and participation in the longer rhythms of life in the city. It's easier here. More up front and harder to miss.

I am reminded of a surf lesson I took earlier this year in Puerto Rico. The instructors started the morning with about 15 minutes of yoga emphasizing the necessity of flowing with the rhythms of the sea rather than trying to fight them with brute strength. The forces in the ocean will always win a fight but can be the source of joy if respected.

There's something similar at work here.

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New and Old

The new chicks are here:


The old ones are getting BIG: