Follow Your Dreams (for Next to Nothing)

When the early morning sky sears pink and the moon recedes south toward Toulouse, I follow the gravel path to the hen house. Lulu, my feline companion, trots alongside me on the stone wall. At the shepherd's hut we pause to gaze at a view of pastures that has remained largely unchanged since the Middle Ages, when the stone structure was built. The foxes and wild boars that roam the night have returned to the deep woods, and the hens are ready to begin their day. I open the hen-house door, toss corn feed onto the ground, and the hens strut out their brilliant plumage. In their nest are two warm eggs for my omelet. … Back to Article