Take pictures in the fading light at guinea hour.There’s the guineas grazing in colour-coded groups.There’s the chicks that slipped out today, quite proud of themselves. Nosey on the left. They’re pretty good about following the guineas back in, when they call it a night. The little barred rock again. I’m with you, right? I’m the right colour! Oooh, can I come out?! The small chickens are so cute. They’re cute right up until they’re suddenly big burly roosters swaggering around. They spend a great deal of their juvenile lives independent of their mothers. Months. They have so much growing yet to do when they strike off on their own, but their sibling bonds (the chicks they shared a nest with) seem to stay really important until full adulthood.
Today was a big sun bathing day, warm in the greenhouse, chicken legs stuck out everywhere. It’s very quiet when it’s warm. The birds are all flopped out, dozing. Too sedate to squabble. Tomorrow, rain.
I made fudge, which is awesome because it involves vats of melted chocolate:Also worked, as usual, and felled some more of the ugly buckthorn forest. Is the glass half full or empty? I can look around after two tanks of gas burned and see little difference, or I can go Yeah, two more tanks of gas … spent cutting down an invasive so regeneratively powerful I might start calling them Triffids. I have to do that in the morning in order to feel any accomplishment about it. When the snow comes, I think that’s when the amount of land I’ve cleared of the beastly GLB this fall, a fraction of the infection, will actually look like something. Here’s hoping.