The snow was falling when I woke. I hope this is the first of the four final snowstorms predicted for this winter.
While the snow is beautiful, the view inside the hen house was not as lovely. For the third morning in a row I went out to find a dead chicken, killed by a weasel. I don’t know if it is possible to keep a determined and hungry weasel out of a hen house. I will spare you the image. Only a dozen chickens left, including a rooster.