every day is a good day
On a rainy day, the best place to be is indoors, looking outside from underneath a mother’s warm feathers.
Below, it’s time for a short, afternoon nap. You’d never guess Lucky has her five chicks tucked underneath her.
Out they come, one at a time.
Nap time is over, and it’s back to exploring the world, having fun, and growing up.
Watching chickens preen makes me want to have a neck that can stretch like theirs. The only spot they can’t reach are the tops of their heads. To scratch an itch on their heads, they need to use their feet. When they are resting, their necks don’t look very long, but when they need to, they can stretch their necks to reach any itch.
Not exactly tyrannosaurs, but fearsome creatures nevertheless if you’re a field mouse, the chickens have found a bone one of the dogs buried. With a bone, a flock of fifty chickens can attack it like a school of piranhas. Well, maybe that is a bit of a stretch. But, leave a bone out and the chickens will strip it bare in no time.
Life is not always joy and happiness. Even for chickens. Billy turned five this March. Slowly, his glory is fading. He no longer has as many tail feathers, and the color of his yellow feathers is fading. Some of the feathers on his back are nearly white.
Below are pictures of when he was two years old. He won’t be around forever. Neither will any of us. The time to live is today.
At the end of a long, dry summer, the forest floor crackles with the noise of chickens scratching through the fallen leaves. This is where they spend hours each day. They find lots of good things to eat. Keen eyed, wary, and curious, they see everything.
