Amazing Hatching

It was three weeks ago when I went out to feed our hens. We currently have 12 hens and 3 roosters. I emerged from the coop and heard a most suspicious peeping sound. Looking to investigate, I entered the run and, there in the highest nesting box, was a hen with three chicks!

I got them some food and water and put it up on the flat, wooded perches outside the nesting box and stood back to watch. This is a funny time for hatching chicks, but it has not been that cold lately.

As I watched, one of the chicks hopped out of the nest and fell right through the slats of the wood! It peeped feebly on the ground and I moved forward to pick it up. Just as I reached it, the mother hen clucked angrily from above. She jumped out of the nest and landed furiously on my head! She pecked and clawed until U shook her off and backed away from her. The mother hen then picked up her chick using her beak and claws and flew back up into the nest with it.

There are two brown ones and one black one. The next morning when I went out to feed the chickens, the mother hen had transported all her chicks to the ground (I personally think she just pushes them out of the nest. They can obviously survive the drop). I blocked off the hole leading from the coop into the run and shut the run door so she could not get out. Our dog would eat the chicks if she saw them.

I feed her in the run now, and she stays in there. The chicks have lost most of their fuzz and have wing and tail feathers. They can fly and hop short distances and, at this time of year I feed the hens cracked corn; the chicks could eat it right from the day they hatched. We still have all three and they still peep. When they sound like hens and they are bigger, then I will let them out of the run and we all hope they are hens, not roosters!

With three roosters, a fight is guaranteed soon and two someones are going to end up in the stew pot.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

~Layla

 

skunk cabbage

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Down in the swamp where the spring overflows

The brave little chickweed through the winter grows

There lies something new to be seen

Dark satiny red with a hint of green

The brave little chickweed through the winter grows

While the roots to the red work deep beneath snows

Dark satiny red with a hint of green

Skunk cabbage in the muck is spring cleaning Queen.

While the roots to the red work deep beneath snows

There lies something new to be seen

Skunk cabbage in the muck is spring cleaning Queen

Down in the swamp where the spring overflows

 

a day in the life

Cuban Street
photo by Seema Namazi

 

it’s 0 degrees this morning.  the chicken’s water is ice, the pond is ice, mate’s beard froze to his face while getting the car started this morning, along with the nasal drip suspended from his nose.  yet here is this photograph from a street scene in cuba with no cold in sight and it keeps drawing me back to it over and over again; warming me up for some reason!

there’s all these grey parts to it:  co-existing beside and between the colors.  see how some of the truck is ultramarinish and the rest is just lackluster and grey? the cyclist is in shadow yet he holds something yellow, pinched between his fingers, that somehow stayed in the light; the dark didn’t steal it away did it?

it’s all happening at once amidst terracotta rooftops and cerulean skies . . ..  reminds me of life, well mine that is!  there’s bright colorful parts and there are grey parts too, light and shadow flirting with the rainbow, and some elements we can let go of and some we keep sharp and keen, holding tight between our lips or under our hats, in a purse or pockets, and our footsteps might be grey walking into color, or color fading to black,  yet *all* of it forms the whole picture, without which the fabric of *being* would be entirely different, changed in some way as yet imperceptible but hinted at in these tints bouncing back and forth between the buildings . . … yes, i really do like this picture!  what does it say to you?

Save