On warm days, I let the chickens out to play. Whoohoo!
They resent their incarceration in the greenhouse in the winter. They glare balefully. We are bored out of our tiny skulls! They do not buy that it’s for their own good. We’ve got survival skills, yo!
Which they do. They make themselves at home all day in the forest, scratching. They can take care of themselves outside, even doing some winter camping, but I prefer them to have more protection against the raptors that are hungrier in the winter. So they must mostly stay in.
This winter has been weird. Three times now, all the snow has been swept away in a big rain and warm spell. It’s not a good look. But the hens are happy. They get periodic outings. Not like last winter, when the snowpack stayed a meter thick, and no one came out of the greenhouse for the entire season.