Every Farm Needs A Chicken Or Two

On a particularly frigid and cold March day, we decided the time had come to buy the first batch of chicks for Colden Springs Farm. Tyler and I had identified a metal stock tank that we wanted to use for the chick brooder, which would be the chicks’ new home for the next 2-3 months. Pine shavings were spread out on the bottom, a feeder and a waterer put on top, and a heating lamp was clamped to the side. On top of the stock tank was an old window screen (thumbs up for repurposing!) we used as a lid to keep out predators. Once everything was set, we turned on the heating lamp, and then headed for Tractor Supply, a semi-local farm and feed chain store, to find our chicks.

For weeks, Tyler and I had been watching the chicks running around in the chick area at the Tractor Supply. Twice a year the store sold chicks, and long before we had intentions of even owning chickens or living on a farm, we would always make a trip just to see the chicks at the store. This time, I had butterflies on the way to Tractor Supply, because this time, Colden Springs Farm would be the new home to a bunch of lucky chicks!  It was probably one of the coldest days that month, but determined to see eggs by summer, we knew we could not delay much longer. When we arrived, we made a beeline to the chirping noises, and after some consideration, decided on 3 female sex links (a light brown bird), 6 female australorps (a black bird with a greenish sheen), and took our chances on one unsexed plymouth rock (a black and white bird), which we did not know whether was male or female.

Standing on the other side of the cashier, I gripped the box that contained our new farm friends while Tyler went to heat up the car. As I stood waiting, the butterflies I had felt earlier turned into an almost sickly feeling - I was so nervous holding the chicks it was making me sick (Tyler still does not let me live down this day). We drove home in silence, listening to the anxious chirping of the little birds, trying hard to make each turn as slowly as possible and to not make any abrupt stops. These tiny, fragile, little creatures were now our responsibility and our care for them would be the determining factor of their health and wellbeing.

Once we arrived home, we parked the car in front of the barn where the chick brooder was. Tyler held the box, shielded them with his body against the bitter wind, and made his way inside the barn. The chicks were then transferred from the box to the brooder, one by one, running away frantically from Tyler’s arm, creating a ball of cute fluffiness as they huddled close to each other for safety. Once the last chick was in, the window screen was returned to the top of the brooder. We watched as the chicks slowly became acclimated with their new surrounding. The bravest one ventured away from the group first, waddling a few steps away from the protection of the other chicks. It pecked at something on the ground, took a few more steps, and then pecked at something on the wall. Soon, another brave chick left the huddle, and soon enough, the group huddle had dispersed, and the chicks were happily chirping and exploring their new home.