Naif in the Forest by Darrell Berger

Wing Tips to Hiking Boots: Musings of a New, Full-Time Poconos Resident 

I enjoy walking our dogs at sunrise, listening to the concert of the birds. One morning the sound changed, as though the first violin had been replaced by a car alarm. It was a rooster. That new backyard shed two doors up the mountain was a henhouse. 

For weeks the rooster was a featured player in the sunrise symphony with several mid-day practice sessions. Eventually he calmed down and his arpeggios were less frequent and lower volume. Roosters crow to announce territoriality and alarm. Our new neighbor had become more secure. 

Chickens are the most prevalent bird on earth, with about three for every person. They are everywhere. Their role in the ecosystem is extremely varied.

That rooster reminded me of the wild chickens of Kauai, the most isolated of the Hawaiian Islands, where we were fortunate to visit in February. 

Beautiful, multi-colored chickens are everywhere on Kauai. They arrived centuries ago with the Polynesians, but their currently large and increasing numbers are attributed to Hurricane Iniki in 1992, which blew down many chicken coops, releasing their inhabitants to breed with the wild stock. Every morning one is greeted with an entire orchestra of very secure roosters. 

I spotted this hen and chicks behind a hedge at a restaurant. She kept gathering the chicks to her, as they tried to explore, which would expose them to the dangers of a sidewalk and human feet. She succeeded, and as we were leaving, everybody seemed ready to settle down for the night. I have eaten no chicken since. 

Last week the morning chorus had added another car alarm. Neighbors two doors down the mountain had also acquired chickens. This is part of a national trend, inspired by a fear of food scarcity, I suspect, with a little “off-the-grid” strategy mixed with some back to nature aspirations. 

Stereo roosters feel a bit like Kauai, which is nice. If there are more to come, I suspect they will begin to remind me less of that beautiful island and more of the Ohio of my boyhood. Chickens are everywhere.