Spoke Too Soon

Taken at the usual site yesterday morning.  Thick smoke in every direction.  How bad was it, you ask?  Bad enough that when some idiot started another fire (quickly put down) right around the corner alongside the road, I couldn't find any new smoke amongst that already drifting from the King.  Now that's scary.  The wind had shifted to the northeast and was blowing smoke back to the southwest.

Sunrise yesterday.  Look hard to find the sun.  The taste of smoke all day yesterday.  Small potatoes compared to what it must be like for the heroes on the line.  As of this morning, 80,944 acres; at least it isn't going forward like a freight train, but still far from contained.

One of the pullets jumped the fence and was happily scratching and taking dust baths under the lavender behind the first shed, unconcerned by the tom turkey who was courting two females nearby.  I don't speak the lingo, but that boy was sweet-talking those girls big time.  I didn't know a turkey could coo.  The hens were nestled down in the santolina, listening to his spiel.  In the turkey world, the hens get to make the choice and this fella was giving it his all.

I really don't want to go outside this morning, afraid of what I might find.  The little pullet has come out before and then gotten herself back in the pen again, so I didn't think too much about it when I didn't see her last night and let Bess come with me to put the kids to bed.  I was just starting to count beaks in the hen house when the escapee came out from under the feed barn, headed for home.  Bess took one look and took off, scaring the little kid back under the barn.  Bess thinks she's helping.  I locked Bessie in the feed room and coaxed and begged the hen to come out.  Not happening.  Finally, I had to give up and the dog and I went back to the house.  I hope the little red hen survived the night things.