It’s molting season. Feathers are falling out and piling up in corners – the activity inside the barn mirrors what’s going on outside as multi-hued leaves are blowing off of the trees. Stepping into the Big Barn is like walking in on the scene of a pillow fight. Replenishing feathers takes energy and resources and so the hens stop producing eggs while they go through the molt. This break from laying will take up to three months. All hens that are over a year old molt, and they do it every year as the seasons turns towards winter. And yet, some of the Gems have not yet joined the party. Opal, the Delaware, looks as stolid as ever. She continues to lay a big brown egg every other day, which is surprising as Delawares were developed as a meat breed not so long ago in the 1940s. Amber, my perfect Buff Orpington, who never, ever goes broody, continues to be the golden girl, and lays her eggs almost daily. If you look at them, you’d never know that winter is on its way.

Most remarkable is Edwina, the ancient hen, who shows no sign of molting. Even her comb is upright and red like a young hen’s. I wish I knew her anti-aging secret.

Other hens in the flock are molting. Some, like Jasper, more dramatically than others.

Meanwhile, the LIterary Ladies are not yet a year old. Pullets are too young to molt. Despite the chilly nights and the earlier sunset, they continue to lay. Veronica, the Cuckoo Marans, who matured weeks later than her sisters, is now leaving an egg in the nesting box!

Her egg is not (yet) the dark chocolate color that this breed is known for, but it is darker than Nancy Drew’s light brown egg.

I’m getting four eggs a day from the six Ladies, which is a good number from the breeds that I have. They should keep laying through the winter, not at maximum production, but enough to keep my kitchen stocked. Meanwhile, in a few weeks, when all of the old hens have shed their tens of thousands of feathers (each hen has about 8,000 to lose and regrow), I’ll shovel out all of the bedding and detritus, sweep up the dust, and put down a new layer of pine shavings. But that’s for another day. There’s still lush clover on the lawn. The goats have been eying the grass that is greener on the other side of the fence. I’m going to take them for an outing.

This is the view from my home office window.

It has been a picture-perfect autumn. Every year I am dumbstruck by the the transformation in the landscape. Every year I vow not to be surprised, and yet I am. Anything that I write about how beautiful the fall is will come out cliched. So, I won’t even try. Instead, here is a photo that Steve took a few years back of our friend, Larry Sorli’s cows. The maple trees really do look like that.

This photograph is in the calendar put out in collaboration of the Massachusetts Department of Agricultural Resources and Massachusetts Farm to School Project. Purchasing one supports the MAC. You can do so here.

Yesterday I put the one and only pumpkin that I was able to grow this year into the Gem’s pen. They know all about pumpkins and went right for it. Today, all that’s left is a shell.

Pumpkins are the perfect treat for your hens. Pumpkin is filling but not fattening and is consumed over the course of the day, not in a fit of gluttony. Pumpkins contain good nutrients, including carotene, which will go right through to the yolk, and which will be good for me, too. My scrambled eggs at breakfast will be bright orange this week. Also, there’s some evidence that pumpkin seeds help to control a chicken’s internal parasites. Even if all of those good things weren’t in the pumpkins, I’d provide one to my flock because it keeps them busy and out out of trouble.

It wasn’t right that the Gems should enjoy pumpkin season and not the hens in the Little Barn. It was time to treat the Literary Ladies. So, as much as I like to rely on my own garden for treats for the hens (and there are plenty of weeds around to feed them) I went out and bought a pumpkin for the Ladies.

You could simply put a whole pumpkin in with your flock, but it’s best to get a hole started. I used an apple corer to poke three holes into the shell. (Or, you can fancy it up, see this post.)

When you first set a pumpkin down, the hens might be wary.

Not to worry, because soon they’ll have it figured out and will start pecking.

Within the first five minutes, all approached to jab at the holes.

Of course, there’s always one in a bunch who would rather look at a camera lens.

Phoebe hopped by with nary a glance. She then glared from her favorite corner at all of the hubbub going on around the pumpkin. She feigned disinterest, but she’ll be gnawing at it tonight while the hens are settling onto their roosts.

It is thanks to the generosity of a few HenCam readers that I purchased five big fat pumpkins today for the flock. I put up the Treat the Hens button and they responded! I would have the animals that I do without my viewers, and the critters would be treated as well as they are now. However, I wouldn’t be able to put the time and the resources into HenCam that I do without your contributions. Your support allows me buy a pumpkin, sit with the hens, and tell you about it. There are posts that take me all morning to write. I am very grateful to be able to do that and to share my world with you. At the rate the Gems are going through pumpkins, I’ll need another eight just for them. Please considering sponsoring a pumpkin. Thanks!