When summer's at its peak, with high humidity and daytime temps in the upper 80s or low 90s, I raise an old patio umbrella about 10 a.m., to shade the chickens' pen. But the weather has been more pleasant than punishing this week, so yesterday, I didn't open the umbrella until 1 p.m. or so.
Usually at that time of day, Snow, Nellie and Hope are resting under the elevated coop, a shady spot to which they often retreat in the early afternoon. Yesterday, though, they were out in the pen when I arrived. And they were positively drunk on sunshine.
Hope was simply standing around, catching a few rays. But Snow had dug herself a hole in the ground and was prostrate in it, oblivious to her surroundings. As for Nellie, she was lying on her right side at the edge of the pen, with her left wing fully extended and pointing upward, like a raised arm. The tip of her wing rested on the wire that encloses the pen.
"The girls" normally bounce around excitedly whenever any human shows up, hoping for treats, but yesterday all three hens remained motionless for quite some time before they finally roused themselves. I half expected at least one of them to squawk a demand for sunscreen and a good beach read.
