Chicken Babies Just Before Nightfall

Everything gets very quiet around the place as night falls. It’s my favorite time of day. The frenetic pace of the day is replaced with calmness. There’s no apparent need to rush around. The dishes can wait. The last cleanup of the day can wait. I am busy spacing out and coming back down to earth. The chooks were noisy and rambunctious during the daylight hours. Now one could hear a pin drop. As I sit gazing out through the panes of the French doors, it occurs to me that the group of the now almost full-size offspring are getting ready for bed. I didn’t realize that they were still choosing to sleep inside the nesting box John built that sits unobtrusively out on the front patio in the corner, protected somewhat by foliage all around it. Slowly, I notice these juveniles getting in some sort of queue to enter the hallowed slumber area. But it’s gotten much darker and my camera fails me every time I try to capture how their genes take over as they line up according to some sort of pecking order. In the back, too, the larger groups of adults with a few youngsters, move into separate groupings of their particular tribe and take turns in a single file of going off to their nominated perch in the commanding pines outside of the hen house. It’s quite tricky but they all seem to know the ropes and cooperate in their parade of poultry until the very last chicken has departed from my view. I wonder if these nine babies are going to sleep just off the ground in that box when they’re adults. I can hardly imagine how stuffy it must be for the ones in the back with others all around them in that relatively small space.
I don’t actually know how to turn on my flash, which I fumble with unsuccessfully, thus I can’t show you just how sweet these little guys were as they did exactly what the mature ones did, about a half a block away, ending up just off the ground, not roosting high up in a tree. For some reason these particular nine birds stick close to the front gardens, where I am. They imprinted on me shortly after hatching I guess and they ain’t leaving my side, or actually the front glass door, very often. So, on days when I want to use the door, their presence can be quite daunting, especially if I have an extra plate of food for them in my right hand, while I fend off their flying attempts to sit on me and feed, with my left hand and I usually end up just tossing the plate on the ground on the other side of the chicken wire fence John erected to keep them away from the front door. Hmmm. Some cursing escapes from my lips at these times.
But then, what did I ever know about raising chickens? All my expertise is how to love animals, not particularly how to care for them properly, but I’m learning. Translated that means I’m learning what isn’t helpful. Ooops.
But it was a beautiful beginning to the evening and I think I might have captured it in the last few shots. The quiet and peacefulness has healed everything that was amiss during the day. And tomorrow’s gonna be here soon enough so I’ll just sit here and drink in all this quiet now while I can.