My dear little chickens...

Sat out with chickens this evening.  Heard an owl across the street as Milk was the last one getting in the coop.  Stayed out as a reinforcement.  The reason....on Sunday morning (we stayed in from church) at about 8am or so, I could hear the Blue Jays going crazy in our oak tree in the backyard.  Got up, opened the back door  and a small hawk looked at me from the ground and flew off.  I let Romeo out, followed him, and stood out there watching the bird land in the oak out front.  The Blue Jays were all over it.  Went back inside for a minute, came back out and it was in the backyard again.  Turns out it had swooped down on something in our yard (not a chicken) and had left it behind.  Came back for its dinner, I guess.  I buried it. Not the hawk, but what it killed. End of story.

But now we have to stay on our toes in the morning.  The hawks know the chickens are there, but thankfully this was a small one.  Sparrow hawk, kestral, falcon...who knows.  About 12" in length, which is small for a hawk, and much smaller than our birds, who are built like little football players.

Interesting how having chickens has brought me out of the house more.  Sitting with them in the evenings, or sitting with them in the cool of the mornings.  The quiet therapy of cleaning out the coop and putting in more wood chips, which I really enjoy.  Puttering.  Easy tidying and happily seeing them go inside the coop right by my side as I tidy up.  Looking at what I do, approving of the clean place to roost.  Making sweet little chickeny sounds.  

Waiting for Milk to get on the roost last.  Bird sounds in the neighborhood slowly ending and the crickets, tree frogs and grasshoppers beginning to sing.  Day turns to night and all is well.