I've been thinking about what makes us like the things we do. Perhaps the things we're drawn to were ingrained in us at a very young age. This photo of my brother and I was taken when we lived in Michigan. Growing up, we would travel to Indiana to spend summer vacations at my grandmother's farm. I adored the sound of roosters crowing in the morning, flowers growing alongside vegetables in the garden, and playing in the barn. After moving here a few years ago, one of the first things I did was get my own poultry, with sheep following soon after - and I still love the smell of a barn full of fresh hay.
So, do I enjoy chickens and sheep so much because I was exposed to them at such an early age, or did I love them from the first, because that's just how I'm made?