The seven noble hens are the survivors of a greater community. They all laid eggs in shades of brown. The hens that are producing now are black and white. They lay their eggs in shades of blue.
On my way to the bus stop I saw that the marsh marigolds had opened. When I pointed that out to Cedar she was just as excited as I thought she'd be. We saw the dandelions bloom first and now the marigolds are blinking their bright eyes at us as we walk along.
One lone junco has been coming to pick up seeds. I'll pour some out for him tonight in case he's still here at sunrise. That busy little chickadee has abandoned her project of enlarging the hole in the rotten tree. I thought the selected tree appeared way too rotten and would fall in a good wind. Perhaps she thought so, too.