Trampled...

The rain stopped for a while yesterday afternoon, so I took the last two pots of brussel sprout seedlings that were hanging around and put them in a small bed that had hosted (now exhausted) Roma tomatoes. The seedlings were not all that robust, and I'm not sure if they will mature this late in the season, but it felt good to plant again.

My planting caught the interest of the chickens, of course, requiring a bit of shooing. But Gwendolyn and Magdalena were persistant. They had to check out the planting in detail.  I love the bug control they bring to the garden, their soft chicken language, and their ungainly sprints from one side of the garden to the other. And though they do not really eat plants often, they do trample. Boy, do they trample!

No sooner had I turned my back to find netting to protect the bed, than the two of them were pecking and scratching...and trampling. Just being chickens, I guess, but it makes me wonder how often I trample what is being born in those around me, even in myself.

The good news this morning? After more rain during the night, the plants are looking fine. Thank God new life is so insistant!