Post by thewisefarmer on Dec 13, 2017 9:48:57 GMT
FIRST DAY
Carols and songs of the joyful season echo in my mind during the holidays. I often sing to the critters about the coming event. Laughter is and should also be a part of the holidays. And now I laugh when the "12 days of Christmas" song is sung.
When we moved to the farm, among the various critters, we also got birds. We bought geese, ducks, turkeys and chickens. Gradually the number was reduced by predators, from giving critters to new homes and even from watching one goose fly off with some wild ones. Eventually we were down to only about 7 or 8 free range chickens and one rooster.
These were the ones who had learned how to roost in the tall trees that were near the house for protection.
As the weather chilled outside, the trees began losing their leaves until only a few browned ones still clung to the branches.
The chickens learned that the tree by the garage was protected from the winds and bitter cold and it was easy to hop up to higher roosting spots by starting from the fence post. So night after night, one by one the chickens would hop onto the fence post and then branch by branch they would go higher and higher into the tree for a safe night. All except for one hen.
This brown hen had a hard time hopping up into the tree, so she roosted in the one outside the kitchen window. She would get onto the propane tank and then flutter up to the small tree branch above her. She roosted off by herself in this small lone tree.
Winter and Christmas approached and the final leaves fell away.
Every evening and early morning there she was - like a twist to the 12 days of Christmas song, I would sing with laughter...."On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me" ...."a little hen in a bare tree"
Carols and songs of the joyful season echo in my mind during the holidays. I often sing to the critters about the coming event. Laughter is and should also be a part of the holidays. And now I laugh when the "12 days of Christmas" song is sung.
When we moved to the farm, among the various critters, we also got birds. We bought geese, ducks, turkeys and chickens. Gradually the number was reduced by predators, from giving critters to new homes and even from watching one goose fly off with some wild ones. Eventually we were down to only about 7 or 8 free range chickens and one rooster.
These were the ones who had learned how to roost in the tall trees that were near the house for protection.
As the weather chilled outside, the trees began losing their leaves until only a few browned ones still clung to the branches.
The chickens learned that the tree by the garage was protected from the winds and bitter cold and it was easy to hop up to higher roosting spots by starting from the fence post. So night after night, one by one the chickens would hop onto the fence post and then branch by branch they would go higher and higher into the tree for a safe night. All except for one hen.
This brown hen had a hard time hopping up into the tree, so she roosted in the one outside the kitchen window. She would get onto the propane tank and then flutter up to the small tree branch above her. She roosted off by herself in this small lone tree.
Winter and Christmas approached and the final leaves fell away.
Every evening and early morning there she was - like a twist to the 12 days of Christmas song, I would sing with laughter...."On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me" ...."a little hen in a bare tree"