Chickens Coming Home To Roost

I like the cool of the evening.  Things seem quieter.  People are heading home.  Supper is in the oven and life is good.  In the late afternoon when the sun starts sinking below the horizon, the hens are on a mission.  They all go back to the very same spot to roost every single night.  Like people in church pews, they have 'their spot' and no one's gonna take it from them.  Come to think of it, people have 'their spot' in bed, too.  I don't know if I've ever slept on the right-hand side of our bed.

Many of the chickens roost on the roosting bars in the henhouse.  It is a safe spot away from predators.  It is, however, cramped and the air smells strongly of chicken poop.  It is this chicken poop, however, that falls to the ground while they sleep, that is used to fertilized the garden once it has composted for a year.

We have an Aracauna or two that enjoy roosting in the rafters of the barn.  We don't like chickens inside the barn and have tried with limited success to keep them out of the barn.  Others roost on the woodpile.   My favorite two are these Barred Rocks that hop up on the woodpile and then awkwardly flap their wings until they've positioned themselves on a low-lying limb of a pecan tree.

From where they perch, they have the pecan limb worn as smooth as a river stone.  And it is here that they will sit, and sleep, and poop until the roosters begin crowing in the morning.  Then they'll hop down, eat some breakfast, lay some eggs, and spend a day of adventure doing chicken things until it is time to roost again.