Day 241.

The path to my special spot. Photography by F L Campbell

Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: full (THANK FEATHERS!)

Wonderful, wonderful news just in: wonderful, wonderful Peck‘n’Lay pellets just in! Actually not only is there Peck‘n’Lay in our hopper but also wheat and grit, AND the ducks’ hopper is also full so there will be no reason for the ducks to visit.

After filling my empty, growly crop I followed Brian’s lead and wandered off to a secret spot of my own that I have discovered halfway down the drive. Here the Boys don’t bother me and Brian can’t make any moves on my ranking in the pecking order while I’m ‘indisposed’ with the moult. (Not that she’s done anything since Paula’s untimely death).

My feathers are coming in slowly but surely.

A poem about death by Ruby
Dead and gone
Young or old
We all have to go

Memories fill the gap
But don’t quite reach the sides
Grief pours in
And other things too

Anger, guilt and sadness
All shape our loss
But happiness and fond reflections
Sustain us

Poor Paula
Too young
Too beautiful
Too alive
To be dead.


OK. That was intense. I need to not think about death anymore.