|Yard at dusk|
The night before the hurricane, I had covered the run with the plastic that I use in the winter. It was still intact from the night before and had barely budged an inch. There was also no rain, just wind. A few weathermen were equating Irene's behavior to a familiar Nor'easter. I went out early to check on the girls. It was around 7am and there were already 2 eggs in the nesting boxes. So far, the storm had no effects on their typical day. Around 10am, I made a decision. The winds, although scary at times, were predicted to decrease as the day progressed. I took a chance and I let the girls out into the run. They were incredibly happy. They looked at me as if to say, "Ma, what took you so long to let us out?" Apparently, they were not fazed.
Quickly, I returned inside. I kept a close eye on the plastic tarp and the chickens from the window. They were as happy as little chickens can be. They were scratching around, finding treats, protected from most of the wind and acting as if Irene was not even in the neighborhood. I was shocked. For us powerless humans, the day dragged. We read books, played board games, relaxed, took naps and even ordered pizza for dinner.
I went outside around 4 pm again, and the winds seemed to have subsided. I brought the girls a bunch of arugula. They were so glad to see me. I think they had missed my presence. Little did they know, the dangers of Irene! At around 6pm, the power was finally restored. The chickens went to bed early, as the sky was still darkened from the thick gray clouds. As I was saying goodnight, I noticed that Tilly was still outside. Unusual for her, she was making sure that her entire flock made it safely into the coop. Finally satisfied, she retired as well and I locked them in for the windy night ahead.
|4pm and the plastic is still secure|
This post is linked up to Homestead Revival's Homestead Barn Hop.
Photo Credits: Tilly's Nest