I, too, was worried until an old crow told my old hens to turn the soil.
At first my hens were confused. "Turn the soil?" they asked me.
I looked up at the old crow and gave him a wink. I pointed at the old garden and said to the aged hens, "Scratch away you beautiful things. Scratch and peck until the soil is upside down. Eat the bugs and the creepy things. Eat and eat until you want to sing."
And the crow began to caw. "That's right you beautiful things! Eat the bugs and the creepy things. Turn the soil upside down until your beak can no longer frown."
"But we are ready to molt," cried my old hens.
"Even better," cawed the old crow. "I'll take your worn feathers to make my nest soft, for I am old and need a cozy bed so I can rest."
Under the watchful eye of the crow, I herded my old hens to garden row. I crouched real low and buried my fingers in the soil. The old hens knew what to do. They scratched and pecked and turned the black soil. Cackling happily they ate the bugs and creepy things. Oh how beautiful they did sing!
Knowing I had done a good thing, I stood under a tree to watch my old hens toil in the soil. Just an old crow and little ol' me.
(I hope this makes you feel better.)