spring snow

If you can just pretend it's a different season, you'll think this day to be totally beautiful. I mean, imagine waking up to a delicate snow, a ruby toned sunrise, a loud chirping of birds, a promise of blue skies:




















Heaven, right?

Not for the chickens.

I come to the coop just as the sun breaks the horizon. I open their door and get ready to clean their quarters. Except that no one wants to come out.

Try cleaning a small coop with chickens in it.

I lure them out with corn. But though they come out, they tread delicately on the fresh layer of snow. Unsure. I'm puzzled. They've lived through a winter already. Have they forgotten how to deal with the white stuff? Is 20F suddenly unthinkable? Lexie, the bravest of the set, flies to the roof of the coop. But rather than pecking at me, she stand on one foot and huddles inside her feathers.






Okay. I leave them alone. But it isn't until after our breakfast...






...that they come out to explore.






As the day warms (well, relatively speaking), Ed and I review projects that need our attention. There are so many!

We decide to work on expanding our vegetable plot out back. We need to rotate the tomatoes out and create a new space for them. And, weed the existing bed. And throw additional chips on the entire space.

And we've got company!






Still, this isn't the chiks' stomping ground. They check out our work...






... then return to their beloved farmette courtyard.  Home. Theirs, ours.

Inside the farmhouse, I'm lining up plants that will be going outside soon.






These are the weeks to exercise patience. Mustn't rush it. Revel in the fact that there is green grass under a a night layer of snow. Look forward to the weeks just before you.

I do. Three weeks (or so) to the planting season. Incredible.