I struggle with March in Connecticut. Traditionally a month designated with “In like a lion and out like a lamb” I find that the lion and lamb sleep side by side. Sunshine fills the days with beautiful weather ranging from 45 to 75 degrees with occasional gusting winds. The nights drop into freezing temperatures. Sometimes colder nights fall into the teens causing me to run outside at 11 pm to quickly cover newly planted flowers. In northern Connecticut only foolishly hopeful gardeners start planting outside in March. Those of us unable to conquer the desire for something colorful, green and blooming after the bleak months of winter and snow attempt to plant in March. We often choose something hardy, like members of the Viola family, including pansies, violets and johnny-jump-ups. These small flowers provide the perfect amount of color and green, combined with a hardiness for low spring temperatures. March, however, hardly counts as spring in Connecticut. Here in my small rural area of Connecticut, March combines all the cold qualities of winter with occasional spring-like days. Thankfully when provided with extra special care the pansies manage to survive the weather fluctuations of March. My definition of “extra special” care includes covering pansies when evening temperatures drop below 32^o F, and moving them with the sunlight in the yard, necessitated by the trees in my yard. This March has been unusual in its warmth, thankfully allowing me to cease my worries about the pansies freezing. Happy Spring, may your flowers flourish and not freeze!

From Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, there came a great unifying life force that flowed in and through all things - the flowers of the plains, blowing winds, rocks, tress, birds, animals - and was the same force that had been breathed into the first man.  Thus all things were kindred, and were brought together by the same Great Mystery.

     Kinship with all creatures of the earth, sky, and water was a real and active principle.  In the animal and bird world there existed a brotherly feeling that kept the Lakota safe among them.  And so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.

     The animals had rights - the right of man’s protection, the right to live, the right to multiply, the right to freedom, and the right to man’s indebtedness - and in recognition of these rights the Lakota never enslaved an animal, and spared all life that was not needed for food and clothing.

     This concept of life and its relations was humanizing, and gave the Lakota an abiding love.  It filled his being with the joy and mystery of living; it gave him reverence for all life; it made a place for all things in the scheme of existence with equal importance to all.

     The Lakota could despise no creature, for all were of one blood, made by the same hand, and filled with the essence of the Great Mystery.  In spirit, the Lakota were humble and meek.  “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth”- this was true for the Lakota, and from the earth they inherited secrets long since forgotten.  Their religion was sane, natural, and human.

• Cheif Luther Standing Bear

          Teton Souix

Excerpted from The Wisdom of the Native AmericansEdited by Kent Nerburn

It sounds a bit odd to call a blog Chickens love roses.  Please, let me explain.  For years my passion for animals has far outweighed many other things I might have done with my life.  When I went to college I intended to become a veterinarian, studied hard, then met a nice boy.  This nice boy and I had Animal Behavior and Training class together, a class that required you to train an animal to do a trick for the final project.  While waiting to perform this trick in front of the entire class the nice boy who sat behind me kept talking to something in a cat carrier.  When I asked him what animal he was talking to, he turned the carrier around and I suddenly faced a little red chicken.  He trained her to jump without using wings about 3 feet in the air.  That day was the start of my relationship with both chickens and my husband.  Eight and a half years later, we have raised at least 1,000 birds together and continue to acquire more birds every year.  We (thankfully) don’t still have all 1,000 birds, currently we have about 30, but they provide both eggs, bug control, and entertainment.  Sometimes the entertainment comes at the expense of both me and my garden.  I spent weeks last summer trying to figure out why my miniature rose started looking terrible.  Every day the foliage had more damage and kept loosing leaves.  The weather was unseasonably wet, so I assumed bugs but found no evidence of bugs (since we do have chickens to eat them), simply leaves going missing.  Weeks of research and observation of the rose, then I walk out one day to one of my beautiful pullets picking the leaves off of my rose like she was having a dainty dessert.  I’m still hoping the rose grows back this spring.  Chickens do indeed love roses.