Looking beyond them, fall colors leapt out. It took only those few nights of deep frost to turn the leaves. The days have been uncommonly warm for this time of year, up in the mid sixties. Perfect for sitting in the sun with a book after barn chores, and I'm not one to pass up an opportunity like that. I'm working on my winter tan.
One of the white Silkie roosters, not Musashi, died suddenly last night. He'd shown no signs of illness. Not too long ago, Blondie also died but of old age. Taylor and her mom had raised Blondie from a chick until she was too big (and vocal) to keep in their residential home. Blondie arrived, via Larry, with a note that said, "My name is Blondie. I am a very good girl and lay lots of eggs." She was and she did. She was the last of my Buff Orpingtons. Some of the flock are just chickens and some have special characteristics or personalities. It is to be expected that chickens will have a short life span, but they are missed when they leave.