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Looking for adventure

By PAT WICK

© Another Day in the Country

When we first came back to Kansas, it was not adventure that beckoned. It was family — whether this was a family reunion or a family funeral. We came back to reconnect the dots that held us all together. We came back to reaffirm that our DNA was similar and remind ourselves of the similarity of our existence.

It was different in the year 2000. That time we were looking for adventure. We craved change, and ironically, came to find it in a place that changed very little. We tried to imagine what it would be like — living in Ramona for more than a couple of weeks — and we couldn't. So we came, looking for adventure, in the spring of the year.

Spring is a season of change. I enjoyed spring in California, too, when it came in February and you wondered if you'd really ever had winter. In Kansas, you know what winter is like with the bitter cold weather. There is no question in your mind when spring has arrived. You know things are changing. You can feel it in the wind, smell it in the air, see it all around.

There is a sense of adventure in spring. New always is adventurous. Even though you've lived many a spring season and you think you know what is going to happen next, you really don't. It's up for grabs in spring. I feel it. The cats feel it. The roses feel it.

"Is it too early to bloom?" they ask each other. "She says she is planting more, what have we got to lose?"

"I'm going for it," chimes in the cherry tree. "I can't wait much longer, my branches are about to burst." And whether or not the weatherman has predicted a killing frost next week or next month, they bloom.

Whenever the outcome is unpredictable, adventure is there. Our pace quickens. Our hearts beat faster. We're breathing deeper.

One of the reasons that I get such a kick out of chickens is that they seem to have an innate sense of adventure. When I come in the afternoon to let them out, they are so excited. The minute I've opened the door they fly into the face of adventure — or my face, if I don't step aside quickly.

And then the hunt for adventure — or something to eat — is on. "Look what I found," they cackle and the rooster says, "I found something better. Come here quick," and the more obedient hens run over quickly to confirm his discovery.

Donna Karan, my favorite black Polish topknot hen does adventures on her own. When the rooster calls, she raises her head and looks in his direction but she keeps right on adventuring. She does come when I call, though and that is probably why I like her. That, and she lets me pick her up.

The other evening I called the chickens to come in for the night and they all came running. When they got inside the house I counted them — like the shepherd counting his sheep — and Donna Karan was missing. I shut the hen house door and called again and sure enough, here she came, running across the street from David's house, scooting under the front yard fence, heading straight for me. She'd been on a real adventure.

"Yeah, one of these days DK is going to lose her head, adventuring," mumbles Tooltime Tim as he hears the story.

My daughter called last night. "My life is about to change," she laughed. She's always been the adventuring sort — traveling to Norway to go to school when she was barely 16, starting her own business when she wasn't even 20, taking up fencing when she was 25, marrying the man she had lived with for 10 years when she was 30, and now they are about to embark on their biggest adventure. Having a baby.

And here I am, spending another day in the country — but not for long. I've got my ticket for adventure in my pocket. California calls. I'm going to be a grandparent for the very first time. It's a grand adventure and I've been waiting for a long time for this one!

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