Find the Amusement. Create a Path.

I stood back, one hip slumped, chewing on my thumbnail. On one hand, I admired the down-to-the-detail custom run my dad had built for me. The style. The colors. Perfection in the form of a chicken house.

On the other hand, I looked around at what had become a dirt pit.

It still wasn’t my vision. Two years ago, when I got my first baby chicks, I had this magnificent vision of a shady woodland run. Massive leafed hostas, ferns dancing in the gentle breeze, happy chickens wandering about. Maybe they take an adorable nibbles from a plant here and there.

Preparing for their eventual transport from the spare bedroom brooder to their outdoor living quarters, I divided up the hostas, moved the ferns, added decorative stones, mulch, curved borders, and a walking path.

And then my chickens got old enough to actually live outside.

They took any ounce of green down to the literal dirt in less than three months. The mulch that was supposed to be here was…there. And over there. And how did it get there?!?

Apparently chickens can redecorate with rocks, because those were everywhere too. The edging I so carefully placed was buried in their chaos. The hostas and ferns were attacked fast, eaten down to the nubs, then kicked around to death.

And then, it was just dirt.

So as I stood there, in my frustrated pose, I looked around and just felt sad. It’s that disappointment when the vision in my head doesn’t even come close to reality. Like those stupid flourless muffins everyone is making on Instagram that don’t actually bake and just sort of, I don’t know, become hot gu?

Well, my god damn chicken yard was not going to be some Insta-tragic hot gu.

First, what was I thinking? Of course chickens are going to trash a yard.

Somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn't failing at gardening. I was failing to design for chickens. I'd built a space around my expectations instead of around their nature. 

Second, they had a blast, are super healthy, and seemingly live a great chicken life.

And third? This is totally solvable.

When it comes to the animals, or plants, or even people, I suppose, that I care for, we have to run through the essential needs. Chickens have food, water, and safety...kind of. I noticed that some of my feather-footed friends had really trashed feet. I also had a sneaking suspicion those trashed feet were partially a result of the rocks they were kicking the shit out of in search of snackies.

Move the rocks.

All the rocks.

As I did this, the chickens surrounded me, working the soft, fresh dirt for their snacks.

(My apologies to the concerning number of worms who lost their lives in this chicken raid.)

Chickens are going to eat the plants and not in an adorable nibble. They are more like goblins who take a challenge full-on and whatever they don’t eat, they stomp.

The plants got protection. Well, the new plants got protection. RIP OG hostas.

Not everything was a fail. My chicken enrichment game is - buffs nails on shirt - iconic. Food puzzles, logs to climb on, objects to perch upon, dirt to dig and bathe in, chicken-sized door to the forest.  This all stays.

And now, I know not to make it look cute first.

It just needs to be fun.

I can do fun. 

I can also do goblin. Let's be very real, this is actually where I thrive. Give me a project that's gone sideways, where I can obsessively and full-on tinker, pick apart, rebuild while being equally entertained by my mistakes as I am dazzled by my wins? This is my fuel.

Stones became mulch.

Little black fences outline the perimeter of the chicken yard for bursts of protected foliage.

Some boulders moved here.

Strategic logs moved there.

Hanging pots, duh. I started by growing microgreens in cute little pots and it’s now an obsession.

Not only are they a healthy treat for the birds, but a string of colorful pots on the fence looks flipping adorable and is wickedly functional.

Hang high while the seeds are sprouting. Hang low for the chickens to enjoy once they are ready to eat. 

This will grow into an edible path where yummy things grow on a cycle. White clover, wild strawberries, a selection of herbs, lettuces, nasturtium, and kale are getting worked into the mix.

I figure the path will open for a limited chomping and scratching period, then close to recover.

I mean, more to come for sure. Because if I know anything, a worthwhile project always becomes an improvisation at some point.

Giggle at the mistakes.

Reset the expectations.

Move another rock (or 100 pounds of rocks). 

You don't protect the original plan.

You protect your willingness to keep playing with it.

Find the amusement. Create a path. Repeat.