As I try and uncurl from my self-imposed fetal position from Tuesday, I am noticing some changes around Russ-Stick Acres.
These past few nights of warm temps have also brought amazingly clear skys. The stars have been accompanying me on my nightly walk to the Wee House. They were also visible this morning when Zip and I made our way back to the main cabin in the early morning hours. How nice…to be living in a stargazer’s paradise.
However, my contentment was short lived as I noticed only one rabbit browsing as we crossed the usual habitat area. Yesterday there were two. I’m cursing coyotes as I take note. Our special breed of rabbit (American Silver Fox x Californian) doesn’t have the speed or agility to out maneuver a coyote on the prowl. They are a heavy breed and are slow on the run. I try to rationalize, telling myself the mate is probably nursing a new batch of kits and will be visible tomorrow.
Death is part of life at a small farm. A week ago I heard a commotion from the chicken coop during our Friday night dinner. Upon going outside to check, I realized we had lost a member of our poultry family. Cyndi (named for singer Cyndi Lauper) had died. She had left the flock and tucked herself in a favorite dug-out spot where the chickens dust themselves during the summer sun. Cyndi was named for her flambouant and floppy comb. She was a California Grey Leghorn. She was old. We had bought her years ago in Pellston, MI. She led a long life. California Grey’s are prolific layers. Her eggs were white. We will miss Cyndi.
However, that wasn’t the end of the story. Upon retrieving Cyndi, Rustic Russ found a young chicken had been attacked and killed that same night. (Which was most likely the ruckus that sent me out to look in the first place.) It was sad to lose this young chicken, as she was raised on site by a Buff Orphington hen. We were unsure what might have gotten into their fenced area…until this morning. Upon leaving early to drop me at work, the headlights of the truck scanned the yard only to see a young opossum saunter under some lumber. Rustic Russ and I both shook our heads. Suspect #1.
Stay tuned…
Woodswoman
