The morning is gloomy around the cabin. Overnight I had rain, snow, sleet and freezing rain all at the same time. Fortunately, I didn’t have much of any of that. As it is also foggy, getting a photo this morning was out of the question, so I will change tack and go for something completely different with this blog post.
On Sunday, I let the chickens out, knowing they don’t like snow. I figured the snow would keep them fairly well corralled where they couldn’t wander too far. So when I went back to pen them up after a few hours, I was surprised when I couldn’t find all of them. It wasn’t long before I heard them. They managed to find the only non-snowy area around, which is under the cabin.
There they were in the dirt, having a dust bath. They looked as though they were having a wonderful time, all bunched together in one little dirt patch, rolling on their backs and flapping their wings. I think they thought they were in chicken heaven, or at least the chicken equivalent of a day spa. I couldn’t tell where one chicken started and another ended. They were having such a good time I hated to end it, but I did.
This is my first winter with chickens, and I was worried about how they’d do out in their unheated, drafty, cobbled together chicken pen with a rabbit hutch for a nest box. They seem to be doing just fine, and even laid eggs through the winter, when I was told they would not. They even laid eggs through the blizzard. So they deserved their day at the spa—and an extra helping of blueberries.