When I lived in NYC way before ipods and terrorist threat levels, I lived on the Upper West Side for a couple years and each morning I would walk to my office building on 57th St., winding through the Park and down Fifth Avenue. It took about 45 minutes and was a wonderful morning routine, topped off with a cheese danish at the corner deli...ah the glories of youth, eating cheese danish and never gaining weight. The same elderly door man in the same red top coat greeted me every morning with "Good morning, dear, you look good today, " said in a warmly optimistic way that made me feel good.
Twenty some years later, I put on my office attire of rubber boots and fingerless gloves, greet the sunflowers followed by whatever cats are in my path. I am now the consistently present doorman for the chickens, giving them a routine that is important to all beings. Opening up the back door of the chicken coop, I greet them every day with, "Morning troops!", as they pile out in orderly fashion, usually in a tidy row. They have much to do, and get right to business. No dawdling at the water cooler.
On a sunny autumn day like today, the compost pile full of squash is emitting heat in fogged breath, and I'm aware of the gentle shadows that follow me...donkeys lurking. If you sit still, they always come over. I continue my doorman duties and greet the ewes, letting them out for their daily work, followed by greeting and feeding all cats...and of course, Mr. Boone stands behind his own Mr. Ed like door, nickering lowly. Together, we are sort of co-doormen for each other. I tell him it's a good day, and his muzzle against my chin responds, 'Yes, always can be..."
That doorman in NYC, I suppose he has passed on...I forget his name, but I remember when I walked in the building, I felt welcomed, and it was a crucial part of my morning routine. He served many people this way. No job is too little. Even when you're greeting hurried office workers, or chickens and sheep.
