Jun 10, 2013 3 min read

This weekend I had quite a unique experience. I had been assigned to write a story about Pittsburgh’s third annual “Chicks in the Hood” self-guided urban chicken coop tour. It started off the way most of my trips outside Washington County begin: with me getting lost.

When I reached the first stop, I didn’t believe it. Here I was, in what appeared to be an abandoned factory parking lot, complete with train tracks and a couple of tractor-trailers. There was no way that this was the first stop on the “urban farming” circuit.

When I went down a narrow gravel road marked, “Access road closes at 3pm,” I was certain I was lost. But then, to my complete surprise, I saw a banner hanging on a fence announcing that I was indeed in the right place. I parked and went to the gate and knocked.

I was ushered into a modern-day Eden. I crossed a bridge spanning twin ponds and entered one of the lushest garden areas I’ve ever seen. Raised beds were filled with vegetables and flowers, interesting wire sculptures were training pole beans and vining plants, and in the back corner of the yard – nearest the old factory – was a chicken coop.

The day progressed and I continued to be struck by the juxtaposition of the city next to these little oases of green in their midst. I drove past boarded-up houses, closed-down community centers and graffiti-covered infrastructure. Blocks would go by where I saw nothing green at all. I drove into neighborhoods with mere feet between homes, onto narrow streets lined on both sides with cars. These are not areas where one would expect to find chickens. And then, all of the sudden, I would come upon another banner announcing that a chicken coop was near.

Each owner had ensured that their setups were not only functional, but beautiful as well. One lady had planted a garden all the way around her coop and had added a sink nearby that worked from a barrel and hose that was fed from rain water.

Another lady had planted her entire landscape in edible plants, and her yard was decorated with her husband’s handmade pottery. Some of the edibles were for the people and others for the feathered inhabitants, but no space was wasted. Her coop even led to a run where her chickens scratched in sections of flower beds, preparing the soil for further planting.

All of the coops were very different from one another. Some coops were premade and purchased, others had been built from the ground up by the owner, and still others were existing structures that had been repurposed. But the owners all shared the philosophy that many conventional farmers share: fresh food is tastier, healthier and easier on the environment than food that is picked before it ripens and is then shipped across the country or the world.

These folks are justifiably proud of their backyard farmettes and are trying to educate their neighbors about how to replicate their success. And we should all sit up and take notice. Farmland is lost daily to development, but that doesn’t mean farming is lost. It just means that smaller spaces need to make a bigger impact. These Pittsburgh “chicks” are handling that concept quite well.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@hughes.net.