Thursday, 18 December 2008

Mother

Cuba's gone broody. She's pretty much gone off her food, she's stopped laying and she spends all day sitting on her empty nest. We spoke to our chook-loving friend J, who put us onto her chook-loving friend T, who came over this morning with 8 fertilised eggs.

We put them in Cuba's nest and she slowly fluffed up her feathers and with her beak, rolled them under her body. She didn't stop to think about whose eggs they were, she knows what she has to do, and she's doing it.

Just like me, I thought, and the way I fluff my feathers for a child who is not mine.

1 comment:

ms. delisha said...

The other day, C's son R was sick. There was mess everywhere. I went to the mother-place, where you are all action, no sense. Your brain re-organizes itself into what must be done.

I love moments like that - when you become an animal on auto-pilot. No existential crisis. No hemming or hawing.

I am Cuba. In the moment of Must.
xo
t