It’s that perfect time of year again in the Zambezi Valley. April. The heat and humidity have made way for temperate, dry air; clouds are chiseled in an eggshell-blue sky; stars conjure up stories each night, so bright and so numerous are they in a clear black sky.
What isn’t so perfect is that our chickens have turned into serial escape artists. Three times in the last few weeks I’ve found them pecking and scratching their way through my vegetable beds. They do serious damage, quickly. The last time they destroyed my squash vines in less than half-an-hour. Like convicts, they dig themselves out under their cage wire via a tunnel. One or two always stay behind, ruining it for the others with their screeches of separation anxiety, ensuring a human runs out to check they aren’t being swallowed by a python.
It’s some work corralling ten hens back into a chicken house. They dart this way and that, clucking and cross for having had their bug-fest interrupted. On Sunday Chris and I rounded them up together after planning out a kind of pincer movement. I was breathing hard by the time we’d finished, but it was in that moment of catching my breath and looking around at the garden that I noticed how much it had transformed with the change in the weather.
April is the month that I long for when it comes to the garden. We plant out all our winter seeds, in stages through the month, and with the weather being mild and dry begin to watch them germinate and slowly grow up into something delicious to eat (if they’re not dug up by truant chickens first). At the same time the citrus is ripening — lemons, pomelos, grapefruit, naartjies, kumquats — and, to my genuine surprise, the passion fruit flowers, planted only last year, have suddenly morphed into ripening fruit all over the vines.
After wiping my brow and rehydrating myself, knowing the chickens were safely enclosed again, I grabbed my camera to capture the air of hope and fecundity in my garden at the start of this new season.
24 Comments
Just wonderful – as usual.
Thank you, as always, Chitaitai!
Beautiful pics as always Bella. Love the vision of you and Chris chasing chickens 😀
Thank you, Bridgey. It was not our finest moment, all things considered. xo
My neighbor just gave me amazing kumkuat cheeky chutney. So so amazing with fish and prawns. He’s the one who makes the kema culo (arse burn) cheeky sauce!
Yum, Kate! Any chance you can share the recipe, please? I’m always looking for new ways to use kumquats …
Lovely … enjoy the cool, we’re heading for heat over here.
Thank you, dear Georgie. Good luck in the heat, phew … I cannot tell you how happy I am to be out of it, haha!
Lovely blog, Annabel! But you do need to train your chickens – mine come when I call…with the lure of a few pieces of bread and then they follow me like the Pied Piper back into their yard…..except, of course, for the one who just doesn’t give a damn and has her own space away from the flock.
Much gratitude for your kind comment, Mike. Ours aren’t really allowed to wander around freely because there are too many predators flying, walking, or slithering around this place. The opportunities to teach them to follow me, therefore, are few and far between i.e. only when they escape. And yes, there is always THAT ONE!
Thank you Annabel’s chickens! Look at the wonderful photo essay of autumn in the Zambezi Valley you caused to happen . . . . and the family doc tells me the exercise has not hurt them an iota either 🙂 ! Can you make it number four?
Thank you, as always, for your super-kind comment, Eha!
Miss my chickens! Thanks for the memories and as always escapism read
Ah, sorry, Jan. I’ve never had chickens until now. What a wonder they are! Much gratitude for your interest and support.
And therein lies the snag – my chickens-cross-silkies are fully free range in the garden. Sounds wonderful but the dogs wolf down the eggs just as they drop and the vegetable patch …. Well it looks s bit like the sadly disused mealie fields. Delightful and motivational (to secure the fowl) to get planting xx
Oh, Margie! These things aren’t supposed to happen in our vision for a considered life, are they? Chris built our chickens a large run which can be lifted and moved to a different spot whenever it’s needed. We place it over vegetable beds that need fertilizing, leave it there for a few months, and then move it on again. It seems to work well, bar the odd Great Escape, and the chickens are still laying at almost full capacity a year later. An idea perhaps?
Morning a really nice time of the year fab photos of the garden hard to believe that 3 weeks have flown past since we were walking in the garden. mike p
Good morning, Mr. Phia! Indeed it is a fine, fine morning up here in the valley. Thank you, as always, for your kind comment. The garden has changed so much since you were here. You’d be really surprised! Love to you both … x
Wonderful photos. Spring here but having torrential rain and my newly planted veggie garden hopefully has not been washed away. I have planted granadilla seeds so do hope they look as fabulous as yours if they germinate.
I love chickens they’re so funny but not when they’re destroying your garden. Have you given them names or are they also for the pot?
Thank you, Gillian, for your very kind comment. I have not named our chickens, and yes, in time they will end up in the pot. Eek. 🙁 I so hope your veggie garden hasn’t been washed away. We’re heading into the dry months now, thank goodness. Oh … and still no seeds from you in the mail. I wonder if they’ll ever arrive? I hope so. All the best to you … Annabel
Another entertaining post from you, along with gorgeous photos! That’s a lot of seedlings. Do you feed the local villages?!!
Thank you, Chef Mimi! No, we don’t feed the villagers … we feed ourselves and do lots of preserving. I do, however, share gluts with staff, neighbors and friends!
Beautiful photos, Annabel! Pretty amazing to think about what the garden looked like when you got there, compared to now…
Thanks so much, Cynthia. It is a never ending living experiment that gives me great joy. An organic garden is dynamic and unpredictable, and of course very challenging. One never stops learning and one never gets bored!
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