The wind was whistling and the snow...SNOW...was darting around me as I headed out to close up the coop last night. The chickens greeted me en route, ever hopeful for just one more treat. They haven't remembered that the last toss of scratch for the day happens when all good chickens have returned to the roost at night.
As I entered the coop I heard a sound. Could it be? Was that a peep I heard? I peered into momma hen's nesting box and looking up at me was one tiny chick!
One year to the day after losing my grandad, we increased our occupancy count at the old farmhouse by one.
He was Lawrence, but he preferred Laur, and so this little chick, as long as he or she remains discernible from the rest shall be Laurie...a name well suited to whichever sex this little one reveals itself to be.
I wondered to myself this morning, how long ago it was since an animal was born here. Quite some time, I imagine.
Here's to the end of that streak.
~Be well friends!~