It began as a muddy morning. By this evening all the snow was gone except for the piles left by the plow and those pockets that always linger longer than usual.
The hens wandered out from under the bird feeder and warmth of my studio wall for the first time in over a week.
When I came in for lunch they were in the front yard, pecking at the ground as if it were summer. I’m never concerned about the hens going in the road. They will explore the edges but all the good food is in the grass not on the blacktop.
I imagine chickens cross the road when there is something enticing on the other side. So far our hens have never been tempted.
