Hen Chronicles: When the weather outside is frightful

Caring for chickens during a Maine winter presents a whole new set of challenges that are not in play the rest of the year, but sometimes it seems as if the satisfaction is greater because there’s more work involved.

The spring and the fall create few headaches as far as the weather is concerned, and during the dog days of summer, the only major issue is to assure that “the girls” are protected, as much as possible, from extreme heat, which they do not handle well.

The winter months are more labor-intensive. In addition to covering the top of the chicken-wire pen with a tarp whenever it snows, as I do when it rains during the other seasons, I place tarps along the sides of the pen as well if the forecast calls for heavy snow or strong winds. Some chickens don’t mind the snow, but others hate it. Ours fall into the latter category. Unless I keep the ground in the pen free of the white stuff, they will not venture out of the coop.

Then there’s the matter of plummeting temperatures. It dropped to 15 degrees here in central Maine Monday night. That may sound mighty cold to folks from, say, Alabama, but it’s almost balmy by New England standards. Still, it was the coldest night of the season so far, but Snow, Nellie and Hope took it in stride, bopping into the pen for breakfast at dawn Tuesday while paying no mind to the chill in the air.

Of course, it will get a heck of a lot colder than this in the months ahead, and that calls for additional modifications.

Our small coop is not insulated or heated, so when the truly cold weather sets in, I take more precautions. Extra pine shavings on the coop floor. One or two saddle blankets draped over the coop’s metal roof. A third saddle blanket tacked on the coop’s back side, which faces north. And bags of leaves banked against the outside of the coop, to provide insulation. A very small, sliding window remains partially open all winter long, because ventilation is more important in a coop than heat. But I adjust the window depending on the weather, so that it’s closed, or only open a sliver, when winter is at its absolute worst.

It’s possible that our hens would fair just fine without my somewhat obsessive efforts; it’s well-known that chickens do better in the cold than in the heat. But I’m taking no chances. Snow, Nellie and Hope have survived several winters, including readings as low as 15 below zero, while under my care. So I don’t plan to abandon my arsenal of homegrown safeguards now. Why mess with success?