Anne In The Muddy Barnyard

 

The hens are wandering the farm again.  For weeks they stayed spent most of their time under the birdfeeder or squatting in the protection of the lilacs.

I don’t know if it’s that the hawks have moved on or that things are melting again.  I guess there isn’t much chance of finding insects when the barnyard is frozen.  I imagine the hens equate mud with spring and all the life that comes with it.

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