It’s a party! This is what happens when you accidentally fill a watering can with whiskey. You attract a crowd in a hurry. Never fear. It’s just water in the can. The chickens are all gathered for the sun. It’s not always clear if King Richard is attracting all the hens, or if the hens are seducing him. Chicken love gets complicated. Polygamy gone wild. A try anyone society swaying from one party to the next all day long. If you are a chicken, every day is New Years Eve, every Tuesday is Mardi Gras.

On a cold, icy day, a sunny spot is a good place for chickens to warm their feathers. It’s up to the humans, bundled in layers of warm clothes, to go search for ice art in the woods. So many art treasures to see before they are gone in tomorrow’s sunshine.

“Eat this, not that.” You can see it in Nina’s eyes. “Which one did Mom say we could eat?” the chicks seem to ask each other. “What about that one?” Chicks have as many questions as children. Just like a child will ask their parent a million times, “Why is the sky blue?” listening to chicks chirp throughout the day with their mother, it’s like they are asking her the same questions, over and over, all day long.

It’s no wonder Nina loves to take a break in the winter sun so she can rest while her chicks preen themselves. If a chick is preening its feathers, it can’t ask questions. There’s no daycare for mother hens. For them, raising chicks is a 24 hour a day job.

A quirk of the calendar had me delivering eggs to Tweets Christmas morning. Seeing the snow on Chuckanuts made for a pleasant bicycle ride. The clouds hinted at possibilities of Christmas Blue. Around here, blue skies, even blue splashes at Christmas make the natives dance for joy.

Nina was out scratching a Christmas feast for her little ones. These chicks, born at the coldest, wettest time of the year are in for a surprise when the winter clouds give way to spring skies.

And here it is, Christmas Blue, tantalizing openings in the clouds. This time of year, it’s easy to forget in the Pacific Northwest that skies can be blue, that above the clouds there is still a sun that shines.

For Christmas dinner, fresh dark greens out of the garden. Blue in the sky, luscious greens out of the garden, what more could one ask for Christmas?

Even in the darkest, shortest days of the year, there is plenty of life. Chickens don’t hibernate in the winter. After a full day pecking and scratching, they gather at their favorite spots to gossip. Margaret is still raising her chicks, even though they are nearly as large as she. This is her second brood this year. Will she raise chicks next year, or will she decide that raising ten chicks is enough?

In the woods, fungi don’t stop growing. On this fallen log, they’ve spread their filament hyphae deep into the wood, and now they are fruiting, developing mushroom heads on the side of the log. Over many years, the fungi will eat the log until it disappears onto the forest floor. In time, it will nourish new trees, which will grow old, fall, and become fungal food again.