Or, the tail of the rooster and the synchronicity of chickens.
The day before yesterday while at the bakery, a young boy demonstrated either Tourette syndrome or incredibly bad behavior. Standing in line—a very long line—of a sudden a rooster began crowing and all of us turned to look in the direction of the sounds. It was not the bird itself, but a young boy in a striped tee-shirt and blue jeans, arms then tucked in with hands under his armpits and flapping. He was running around the store, through the aisles and moving his arm-wings while clucking. It didn’t last all that long and when it stopped, the boy was leaving the bakery with his arm no longer flapping but being held aloft in the time-honored way of a parental escort. It was an interesting break in an otherwise boring and predictable normalcy.
The rooster demonstration made me think of the lovely photos of chickens I had seen a while back in “My Modern Met.” It was an article about the underrated beauty of chickens. I wished that I could see those beautiful feathered creatures again, and regretted not saving the article. I may have even posted a photo or two in a post on this blog.
So today, what do I see but a post on Facebook titled “The most beautiful chickens on the planet.” And there they were, and here they are—examples of the glorious feathered beauties themselves.
For those of us who might want to refer to the full article now or in future, here’s the link. Roosters