You can learn a lot from a little flock of chickens, such as you are more than good enough. John Spiers weaves gentle wisdom through his stories, watching his chickens enough to tell them apart and give them names, which takes time. He learns some Chicken language, and they learn to understand the big Gardener.
We meet Gracie, who has a lump on her side, we get in on a Worm Olympics, chicken ballet (with a guest dancer), learn that words can be hurtful, and that chickens can be contemplative. I look forward to sharing John Spiers’s delightful flock of winsome chickens with my granddaughter!
Author and Illustrator John Spiers
John Spiers is a writer, artist, and “dad” to a small flock of chickens who live in the center of his backyard garden.
While he often produced small writing and drawing project over the years, he never found his creative niche until he decided to raise some baby chicks. They became the characters in his stories and the subjects of his drawings. Now they are his friends, and he spends time with them each evening under the shade of the camellias bordering his backyard garden.
His stories occur in the intersection where the world of people meets the world of chickens. It is an intersection where the unexpected can happen. Chickens can talk with people who truly love them. They can also dance ballet and even put on backyard comedy shows.
His work seeks to share the same joy he feels with his chickens along with bits of timeless “chicken wisdom” about life which he has learned from them.
Part of me has always wanted to raise chickens, but probably never will. These stories sound delightful and witty!
A sewer rat who knows some French, eh? Sounds like a lot of fun!
There’s just so many little gems in these. That’s why I love reading them with granddaughter Katie and talking about “stuff.” But this is as as close as I’d like to be to keeping a flock of chickens! Grandma Leora loved raising them, had a couple pets with names.
I’ve never had a desire to keep chickens, although they seem to be quite popular these days.
I like the idea of it, but think it would probably last, um, three days.
I expect they’re a fair amount of work.