THE RING

Nine years ago, I was cleaning out a bird house at the corner of the yard.  As I pulled out the nest material my ring flew off my finger and into a pile of leaves.

I made mental note of the exact spot where it landed, then put the bird house back together.

When I went to retrieve the ring, I couldn't find it. 
I was not heartbroken - it wasn't especially precious to me. Just a ring that I liked. 


Weeks, months, years passed. Whenever I was in that general area I kicked leaves around, looking for a glimmer of silver and red. 


I wondered if it had rolled down a chipmunk hole, or had been buried deep by hard-working worms. 


Today, I parked the chicken-tractor in that spot so the girls could do some worm-hunting in the cool shade.


Well, I'll be darned.


Pigeon didn't seem interested. 


She had more important business.



The sparkly red gem is missing, 


but I'm not going to hunt for it.

Once Upon a Flock

It's true!


I'm writing a book, based on Scratch and Peck blog! 

The title:  Once Upon a Flock.
It's an illustrated memoir about life with my flock of remarkable individuals, and Marky too.  Loaded with suspense, thrills, laughter and tears.  To be published by Free Press in Spring 2013! 

And I have you, my dear readers, to thank.

Your comments and enthusiasm for the stories in this blog are my inspiration.  

Fresh new blogposts will of course continue!

Yours most truly,

Lauren and the Ladies

...and Marky!

Food Chain

In addition to feeding my ladies,

I feed a healthy population of mice.

It's kind of inevitable.  

They live in the rafters of the shed, in nests made of Marky's shredded dog-toys.

They tunnel into the coop and eat the spilled chicken feed.

Last fall, these creatures had quite the population explosion.

When I stepped into the shed, great herds of mice brazenly scurried across my boots and stalked me fearlessly from the rafters.  

When they moved into our own attic, I began to think unpleasant thoughts about mouse traps and such. 

But I didn't have to think about that for long. On a warm night with the window open, I was pleasantly awakened by the calls of three different types of owls. The mice had been discovered. Their numbers swiftly declined.

So my mice are doing their jobs supporting the food chain, and I'm feeling much better about supporting the mice.  

Now a fox has made a home in the woods right behind the coop. 

I'd like to think that this fox is attracted by the mice, but...well, it did find a good chicken-dinner in our yard a couple of years ago (see Silent Morning).

A raccoon, a fisher cat and several hawks also check in on the girls from time to time.

Recently, we left town for a whole week, and I made certain that my flock would be safe and comfortable while we were gone.




When we returned, the ladies were incredibly happy to see us.

You'd think they'd seen a predator or something.

BEAUTY TREATMENT

Preening. 

We humans do it with tweezers and brushes and aftershave and eyeliner.  

In the ladies' room at the restaurant, we line up in front of the mirror, refresh the lipstick, pouf the hairdo, pick that piece of spinach from between the teeth.  

And just like us, chickens have their rituals.

My ladies get together and preen after they've enjoyed a good meal.  

Pigeon preens to put her friends at ease. 

Once Pigeon starts, everyone joins in.

Daisy is an expert preener.  She makes use of the oil gland at the base of her tail to coat every red feather in shiny brilliance. She does a good job -- rain rolls off Daisy like it rolls off a duck.

 

 Lil'White, being perfect in every way, has no need to preen.  She reluctantly joins in , and finds one rogue feather that needs to be tweaked back in place.

Fern doesn't have time to preen. Just like she doesn't have time to lay an egg.  She does a quick flicking of the feathers, 

and then returns to her primary focus:  to make Lucy's life miserable.

 

But this time, Lucy has found safe haven on my arm.

And when she's done preening herself, 

she preens me. 

 She's hunting for grey hairs.

You missed one, Lucy.

One day while the ladies were grazing, Fern approached Lucy.  I assumed that Fern intended to peck and torture her as usual.  Instead, Lucy reached over and began to preen Fern.  I believe even Fern was surprised.

Being an Ameraucana, Fern is a "Bearded Lady" of the chicken world.  

so I'm guessing that Lucy had found some tasty crumbs stuck to her beard.   

Still, I was intrigued by Lucy's gesture toward her tormentor.

Fern seemed appreciative.

Marky, like Fern, is not into preening...

...I wonder if I could enlist Lucy to help out. 

ART LESSON

Here's some of the art that was on display at the Northeast Poultry Congress in Springfield MA USA.

 I don't recall the titles,

but the artist is Mother Nature.

Her work was elegant, 

solid, 

delicate, 

sweet.

 That sweet one really took my breath away.
   

I visited her a few times during the day and did some sketches to get to know her better.

 How did Mother Nature come up with these designs?  

And what is it like to wake up every morning in this outfit?

This fella is proudly owned by a sweet little girl.

I hope he didn't hear people calling him "Devil Boy".  

This lady scratched in the sawdust as gracefully as a ballerina.

To look at her, one can easily make the link between chicken and dinosaur.

Were dinosaurs graceful?

 And did their souls shine this brightly in their eyes?

This cochin hen was just one voluptuous butt with a head on top.  

She seemed to have a healthy self-image.  Good girl.

Now here's an example of form and pattern explosively combined.

and lovely eyes as punctuation.

I studied eyes.

Could she see me?

Yes, there is a chicken in there.

This prizewinner's eyes have "happy" and "healthy" written all over them.

 All through the day, chickens glanced upward.  I couldn't figure out what they were looking at.  Perhaps the fluorescent lights were flickering? 
  
Eventually I saw what they saw... Sparrows flitting around high up in the rafters of the arena.  All of the chickens were aware of them; most of us humans were not.

As the day drew to a close, some birds settled right down.  


But others...... 
well, turn up your sound for this little video clip.