The morning sun stretched over a quiet farmyard, where a proud rooster named Vero stood atop his perch. His feathers gleamed like burnished copper, catching the first rays of light. Below him, a hen named Luma nestled with her brood of chicks. They were a curious sight—no two alike.

“What are they?” Rooster asked Hen one evening. “They’re ours,” she replied. “But they’re not just ours. They’re their own at the same time.”

One chick bore feathers shimmering like oil on water, another had tufts of gold and black, and one was nearly featherless, its pink skin glowing in the sun like new life itself. Their cries were a symphony of difference, each call uniquely pitched, as if each chick sang a different tune of the same song.

“What an odd clutch,” muttered the farm dog, resting near the coop. “Do they even belong to you?”

Vero cocked his head, his sharp eye gleaming. “Do stars in the sky look the same? Does the forest grow in only one shade of green?”

Luma clucked softly. “They are ours—not because they resemble us, but because they were born of this place, this union.”

The chicks, unaware of their peculiarities, were busy exploring. One darted after a stray leaf, its movements quick and sharp. Another watched, contemplative, before gently picking at the ground. The third hopped aimlessly, its gaze skyward, transfixed by the patterns of clouds.

As the day unfolded, each chick began to find its place. The first chick, swift and fearless, ventured into the nearby field, discovering a trail of insects hidden beneath the grass. The second stayed close to the coop, building small nests from twigs and bits of straw. The third wandered farthest, its curious eyes finding shapes in the sky and tracing patterns on the earth.

At midday, a hawk’s shadow swept across the ground, and the yard fell silent. Vero flapped his wings in alarm, his call cutting through the stillness. The chicks froze, instinct taking over. But then something remarkable happened.

The swift chick darted into the underbrush, creating a path. The nest-builder pulled the others toward the shelter of its makeshift fort. The dreamer paused, its gaze locked on the hawk above. It let out a loud, piercing cry—a sound so unexpected, the hawk veered away, startled.

When the danger passed, Vero and Luma gathered their chicks. The rooster looked at the farm dog with a glint of pride. “They are different, yes. But isn’t that the strength of the flock?”

The dog wagged its tail, thoughtful. “Perhaps difference isn’t weakness. It’s… harmony.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the farmyard settled into a peaceful hum—not the repetition of sameness, but the resonance of difference working together.

The chicks nestled close, their unique songs blending into a lullaby. And as Vero and Luma watched over them, they knew: this was the truth of Nature’s code. Diversity wasn’t just survival—it was life’s greatest symphony.

An Invitation

Every flock is more than feathers and beaks—it’s a mosaic of stories, strengths, and surprises. In The Rooster, the Hen, and Their Wild Mosaic, discover how the beauty of difference reveals the harmony of Nature’s code. Ready to embrace the symphony of diversity?

By Emrys Solis