Chooking It Down

It gets very soggy here in the Highlands in the winter, and those of you who have been watching the forecasts for the UK will be well aware of the stormy weather that has been passing over us today. This morning, well before dawn when I went out to see to the birds, it was persisting down and blowing sideways to add to the fun. The chooks, having decided that it was nearly morning and the proper thing to do was to leave the coop, came out to find all their feathers being ruffled the wrong way and wetness to boot. They then formed a soggy congregation underneath the coop, including the white cockerel.
Came back tonight in the dark and even more stormy weather to find no birds visible, except for the most persistent yellow hen-chook still fifteen feet up in her tree and looking most unstable in the gusty blasts. No sign of the white cockerel in his usual goose-pen haunts, so I can but hope he has taken the message and reconciled himself to his smaller feathered friends in amongst the chooks.
One nice, medium egg again tonight.

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