So I moved to the back screened porch this morning. The cold breeze on the east porch got to much for me. Here I’m tucked into the shelter of the house, and still wrapped in two cotton throws. Silly me, but I am loathe to give up my porch space.

It is quieter here, without the bubbling sound of the ponds. I heard the distant sound of a hoot owl, and now some sort of birds calling a harsh, “Scat! Scat!” Roosters from far away, thank goodness. My hens, in their house beyond the backyard, are yet quiet. Do they hear the roosters and long for them?

Last night I was brought up out of sleep by a sound out the open window that I took for my girls cackling in the hen house. I jumped from bed, slipped into my robe as I went, grabbed the flashlight at the back door, and stuck my bare feet into my rubber boots. I was out the door and heading for the hen house hardly before I knew.

The hen house was quiet, until I shined the light in, at which time the girls grumbled. All feathered blobs peered down from the perches. Nothing was amiss at all. All was quiet everywhere. I headed back to the house quite grateful, and noticed how pretty and mild the night was. Only when I got back to bed did it occur to me that I had run out there with nothing but a flashlight. Did I think I would scold a fierce intruder to death?

And then I heard the sound that had awakened me. For heaven sake! It was two dogs, likely in the neighbor’s backyard, and their differing barks sounded like loud hen cackling.

Can see the east from this porch, the sky beyond trees grows bright. The day is here. The hens are fine, I have tea, and a bit of time for writing. Life is good. God bless us all.