Greener pastures

Because it is time to plant the onions, and the chickens had been free-ranging in the part of the garden where the onions had to go, we moved the chickens to the apple orchard. The grass in the permanent run is just sprouting. We don’t need Coop 2 until the new chicks arrive at the end of June. I thought that Terry would have more resistance to running the chickens among his apples, but when I explained that they were supposed to be good at eating all the bugs, he readily acquiesced.

As usual, we made use of the fact that chickens can’t see in the dark. On Friday night, we waited until they had gone to roost. I went down an hour early to take out the food and water so there would be no spillage. At 8:15, I shut the door. Terry pulled the Gator around and hooked up the hitch. He pulled the coop into the apple orchard. I put the food and water back in. The chickens spent, we assume, a peaceful night.

At 6:15 Saturday morning, I went out to configure the new run. The orchard is completely enclosed with deer netting, but we couldn’t be sure the rabbits had not chewed a hen-sized hole in it. The plan was to put the poultry netting inside of the deer netting. I started by pulling up the posts to the poultry netting in the garden. Hilda came out shortly to help. We moved both lengths of fence into the orchard and then, under the false assumption that we would be enclosing most of the orchard, I let the chickens out of the coop.

Oh my gosh. The mulch under the apple trees is the Best Thing Ever! The hens ran to the base of one tree after another, scattering mulch from here to Kingdom Come, and eating up the goodies that lay underneath. I can only hope said goodies included larvae of apple pests.

Mulch! Best Thing Ever!

Hilda and I started laying out the poultry netting, soon discovering that it was going to be nowhere near long enough to enclose the entire orchard. Dang. We put up all the fence just to see where we could get with it. The hens were, of course, all under a tree that was distinctly outside the fence. We opened one section of the fence, and Hilda threw some scratch grains (Best Thing Ever!) on the ground inside the fence. And all the hens came a-running except Blanche, who was loathe to leave the mulch. I chased her around the tree a few times. When I finally managed to separate her from the coveted mulch, she ran to her comrades at the scratch grains. Mission accomplished.

I don’t know how the hens feel, but I am very glad to have them all out of the mud. We did not anticipate that much rain when we put them in the garden.

Terry got the rest of the garden tilled yesterday. Hilda and I planted one row of mail-order Copra onions this afternoon. It is so hard to believe that anything will come of these pathetic, shriveled, poor excuses for plants, but every year, they snap out if it and do just fine. Hilda raised the other varieties from seed. Those are in the greenhouse waiting to be hardened off. It’s supposed to frost again tonight, so maybe we can move them out tomorrow.

Pathetic, curled dormant onions in the ground.

Update on the tadpoles: they are getting really big, relatively speaking. Last weekend, I got this picture of a chorus frog tadpole smiling. These tadpoles have transparent skin. I can see their hearts beating and the coil of their intestines.

Zoom in if you must--the chorus frog tadpole on the right is smiling

The largest of the chorus frog tadpoles has gotten legs. Last week, they were barely visible nubs.

The chorus frog tadpole, on the right, has a barely visible leg above its clearly visible poop-filled intestine. The leg is parallel to its tail, while the poop is more perpendicular.

Yesterday, they were looking quite leg-like.

I put all the tadpoles in the same container I had them in when I thinned the herd for comparison. I have gained one tadpole from the pond every time I have changed water, bringing the total to ten. The smaller ones are new arrivals, having had their development slowed by the lower temperatures in the fluddle.

Tadpoles, April 25

Same tadpoles, same container, May 6 (10 days)

I changed the water and got new handfuls of muck-covered grass, acquiring yet another tadpole. It is really tiny compared to the others.

The tadpoles are now very round. Unlike the feeding frenzies of the previous weeks, they spend a lot of time just hanging out buried in the grass. I have two hypotheses: 1) they are all going to die or 2) having reached a maximum of weight, they are preparing for metamorphosis. So far, I haven’t seen anyone floating on top yet, which supports hypothesis 2.

Tadpoles hanging out in the grass

The new native plants by the creek continue to grow, although one of the Dutchman’s breeches has died, possibly from frost.

Mayapples

The seeds we planted on Earth Day are up.

Earth Day sprouts. 

We are welcoming back many old friends, both plant and animal.

Bleeding hearts

Jack-in-the-pulpit

Jacob's ladder

Wood phlox

Shooting star--my favorite

White crowned sparrow

Baltimore oriole and goldfinch

Orchard oriole--Terry's favorite

And the thirteen-striped ground squirrels, perhaps the cutest arch-nemeses ever, are back in abundance. Here’s a mystery for you. When groundhogs did burrows, they leave a huge pile of displaced soil by the entrance. Ground squirrels, on the other hand, dig tunnels all over the yard without ever disposing of the excess soil in a visible place. How can this be? 

Thirteen striped ground squirrel stuffing his face with sunflower seeds