Of nests and eggs...

 The chicken coop has four built-in nest boxes. They are easy for the hens to access and offer private space for the girls to lay eggs. I keep them clean and lined with fresh shavings. In the winter, egg laying slows way, way down, but I can typically expect an egg or three a day from my 9 ladies. What I can't expect is to find those eggs in the nest boxes. 

The ladies like to provide me with a bit of mental and physical stimulation. They do this by laying their eggs in various places outside of the coop. Once I find the place du jour (which often takes me several days,), they change things up and find a new spot. It keeps me on my toes, and I am confident that it entertains them. 

The last few weeks have been cold and windy, and we've had bits of snow. The chickens decided that laying in the goat house was a good option. When I open the coop in the morning, I can tell which hens are hot to relieve themselves of an egg because they don't stick around to see what treats I have brought them or take a sip of the warm water I have delivered. Instead, they bolt out the door as soon as I open it and head to the goat cozy. There, they pace and mutter until I finish what I am doing and walk out to the pasture to open the door. 

Once the door is open, the goats rush out. The hen or hens rush in. They have chosen a corner spot behind a hay bag and hollowed out a nifty spot to deliver their nugget. Like toddlers hiding their eyes behind their hands, they think I don't see them.

 I let them believe that because I want those tasty eggs, and it's a handy spot to retrieve them.

This morning, we had a couple of inches of fresh snow on the ground, and it was cold and blustery. I decided to keep the birds safely locked up. They don't like going out in the snow anyway, and I had some nice treats to keep them happy. However, when I opened the door, one of my lavender Orpingtons blasted out between my legs and waded through the snow, fussing unhappily. She dodged into the goat room and headed for the "secret" spot. 

As I worked today, glimpses out the window told me the hen was still out there and had not been joined by any flock members. She obviously didn't want to go back out in the snow, so she stayed in the goat house, which was relatively comfortable. However, there was no chicken food there and no water, either. 

Late this afternoon, I went out and gave the goats some extra hay. The lonely egg was transferred to my pocket, and after a little chase, I scooped the hen up. She only protested a bit as I carried her back across the pasture, through the gate, across the back yard, into the hen yard, and tucked her in with the rest of the flock. The rooster greeted her with rude advances. She made a beeline for the food container. 

I assume she will tell the others that I am on to their hiding place, but since their options are rather cold and snowy right now, I suspect they will continue to use the super secret hiding place in the goat house as their preferred egg depository. The hunt will be on anew as soon as the snow melts, but I'll be ready for them. 

PS. I am amused by the many shades of grey in this picture. The sky, the house, my hair, and my pretty hen all blend nicely.