Now that the Garden Tour is over, I’d like to let the hens free-range. On Sunday I opened up the pens. Buffy slowly strolled out and looked about. She enjoyed pecking at the grass and drinking from puddles.

The more active Gems quickly went to work in the amongst the new grape vines. They’ve been eyeing that patch through their fence. Once there, mulch and dirt went flying in their search for bugs.

But, the outing was cut short. While Steve and I were standing in the middle of the yard, chatting and enjoying the antics of the hens, a hawk sped out of the woods, and swooped low over the hens. Hawks are that brazen. It was only fifteen feet above them when my arm waving and screeching, and pell-mell running at it, convinced the raptor to give up on it’s planned chicken lunch.

The hens are back to being confined, but I have a few tricks to keep the girls busy and happy. I have a small birch log in the Big Barn run.

Every few days I move it to a new spot. The ground is damp and buggy where the log was, which keeps the girls busy for quite awhile.

I also have a compost bin in the chicken run. It is a circle, with an opening like the letter C. It’s where I put all of my kitchen scraps and garden weeds. The hens eat much of what is tossed there and what isn’t edible they shred into bits. It’s wormy and an endless source of good things to scratch for.

My wild arm-waving worked once, but that hawk is smart enough to catch on that I’m not exactly fast. So, the girls will be kept safely in their pens. I don’t think they’ll mind. The patch of greens in my vegetable garden bolted this week. The chickens will have a field day with it.

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect last Friday for the Concord Museum Garden Tour. Over 500 tickets were sold in advance and many more on the day of the event. It certainly seemed as if every one of them came through my yard! People looked at the chickens. They said hello to the goats.

They marveled at the Beast.

It was a lovely day.

Saturday was not lovely. It rained. It poured. It drizzled. It was cold and damp and miserable. But, still people came.

Sometimes I think that gardens are even more beautiful in the rain. The colors, without the glare of sunshine, are deeper. Water shimmers on rocks and glistens in balls on leaves. After the last visitor drove off, Steve took video of the garden and we put together a rainy day garden tour.

Sunday was overcast, but the chickens didn’t mind at all. As promised, I let them out to free-range.

The garden is fully mature, and it took them a bit of looking to find dirt to scratch in. They wandered about, eyeing the flowers and pecking at the grass. They enjoyed themselves immensely until a hawk swooped low. I hustled the girls back into their secure pens. They’ll get to finish their tour another day.

For years Candy wouldn’t let any of the hens into her hutch. The Empress protected her domain. Just a look and a twitch of the nose would send a wayward hen back down the ramp. But, Candy is now 9 years old. She’s mellowed. And, she’s taken a liking to Betsy. Betsy is small and polite. She trit-trots up Candy’s ramp and stands patiently at the entrance to the hutch. Often, you’ll see both rabbit and Bantam White Leghorn sharing the same patch of morning sun.

Recently, I’ve noticed that Betsy has taught herself how to drink out of Candy’s water bottle, as you can see in this screen shot.

There are benefits to being allowed into the Royal Court.