Roosting

The chickens have settled in nicely. I'm getting one or two eggs a day lately. I like to watch them walk by my door in the morning.

I've been working on the run in the side yard. It's full of those "decorative" yard rocks, and also a strange assortment of flotsam and jetsam. I have pulled out car parts, toys, old beer cans, broken glass, and unidentifiable bits and bots. I think it was a kind of garbage dump for previous tenants. It has been raining on many weekends, so I haven't gotten nearly as much done as I would have liked, but I don't think the chickens care. I've also been hauling the rocks out of the back yard. soon I will have a nice little piece of heaven back there.

Tonight I got home before dark. Twilight hit, and it looked like the chickens were off to bed for the night. Molly came running back around the corner and came to stand in front of me. Back when they were little, and back before I traded Typhoid Mary for Blackie, the Big Black Hen, at twilight the chickens would fly up onto my shoulders and perch there until I put them into their coop for the night. It was really sweet, and it was the only time that they really wanted to be near me. Blackie was never into the whole roosting on me thing, and when I brought them back from the country they didn't want to do it at all anymore. Molly seems to miss it though, and every once in a while she looks like she wants to hop up on my shoulder again.

Tonight she fluttered right up to my shoulder and snuggled up against me, until Blackie's protestations called her down into the coop for the night.

Goodnight Chickens.