Saturday, November 13, 2010

Golden Tree Tops

Hickety, pickety, my black hen,
She lays eggs, for gentlemen;
Gentlemen come every day,
To see what my black hen does lay,
Sometimes nine and sometimes ten,
Hickety, pickety, my black hen.

I'm thankful we have our chickens!


The chickens are way down there under the trees.
I tried to get a photo of them yesterday afternoon.












I love the way the way the setting sun turns the tops of the trees to gold. Blue sky above... but it's dark on the forest floor. And it's hard to see the chickens under the trees scratching up leaves looking for their evening snack. But soon the oak leaves will fall and the winter sun will warm and light up the forest floor for more of the day. And I'm looking forward to those sunny, cool, crisp days when I can spend all day outside raking leaves. Well, I could be out raking now, but I have learned not to rake too early or I just have to do the job over several times. Every year I hope for a storm to come by and knock all the leaves down in one go.




The answer to yesterday's riddle: A cloud.

Today's riddle:
A farmer has to get a fox, a chicken, and a sack of corn across a river.
He has a rowboat, and it can only carry him and one other thing at a time.
If the fox and the chicken are left alone together, the fox will eat the chicken.
If the chicken and the corn are left together, the chicken will eat the corn.
How can the farmer get the fox, chicken and corn across the river?
(November 13, 2009)

[0 eggs today]


~:>
Smiles

8 comments:

edenhills said...

Such a sweet tribute to your chickens! Very nice.

Teresa

Jeri Landers said...

I am afraid this comment has nothing to do with your post. I was wondering, as you have free range chickens, have you ever had a fox problem? We do..

Hopeful said...

sweet poem!! the girls look happy and you seem happy, too.

Callie said...

Jeri Landers:
To read my post about a fox attack... search on my blog (search box - upper left hand corner) enter the words:

red fox attack sunday orpington

or go to:

http://chickensontheporch.blogspot.com/2010/03/why-does-it-always-happen-on-sunday.html

The hen survived and is big and healthy now. We call her the house hen because she visits us at the door and wants back inside.

Canyon Girl said...

What a nice chicken poem. And great pictures too.--Inger

Feral Female said...

What a cute poem for your chickens!

Gail said...

I was never good at riddles but I do love eggs. Our hens are slowing down on laying now.

Lynda said...

Lovely poem, lovely pictures.