In this high wind, the chickens will stay inside the barn watching the world blow by. As they line up just inside the door silently looking out, I can just imagine what’s going on inside those tiny bird brains. This song comes to mind, chicken style…’I want to fly like an eagle to the yard…I want to fly like an eagle, let this breeze carry me…to the pasture…the humans back door…the bush…the trees! I want to fly like an eagle!’ Every now and then, one of those hens will sing that song to the point where she actually believes it! She waits for the next gust, steps outside, flaps her wings like there’s no tomorrow, and flys…sorta. For a brief second, she will soar through the air, wings spread out, head held high, her beady little eyes closed! She is an eagle…a real bird! Then she thuds back onto the hard ground, she gets up, fluffs up her feathers, shaking it off. The brave little hen proudly holds her head up, struts back to the barn where the other chickens welcome back their hero with feathered high-fives!