Nota Bene: It’s a chicken story newsletter

There’s this big bright white hen. Kristin says her name might be “The Colonel.” One morning the Colonel showed up for breakfast before I’d opened up the coop, and the next evening she wasn’t on a roost when I locked them up.

I’d recently realized that we had accidentally created a perfect secret nest sanctuary, when we hired a tree service to thwart a large looming pine that was showing a hunger for some of our rooftop infrastructure.), so I went looking there – but the thicket of branches was impenetrable as all get out and I saw no clear paths in, no feathers, no glittering eyes looking back at me.

Yesterday, when she came out of seemingly nowhere for breakfast, I decided it was stalking time.

But The Colonel didn’t want anyone to follow her and so it took some not inconsiderable time, patience, and stealth before she finally circled the fallen pine crown and in doing so, vanished.

As the song sayeth, she was in the pines, in the pines; where there stars, they never shine … deep beneath the layered canopies of thick pipe needle laden branches. I poked around until I finally spotted her – I could just barely see the bright white of her wing, and she didn’t move a feather or make a peep. Three times I tried crawling into the depths of the sideways canopy but ultimately retreated. I was in a bathrobe, after all. I went up the hill and fetched the electric chainsaw and started cutting. I was going down and into the pile, and it felt like I was carving myself a tunnel, boring into a bank vault perhaps.

Branch by branch, the way was cleared until I could crawl in and reach through and that’s when The Colonel finally make a break for it, revealing a cache of big clean eggs. It was a perfect spot, and I had to admire her skill in choosing an ideal location – secure and dry and comfortable – but winter is coming and chicks aren’t well equipped for it. I could tell she had just started to sit full time; the nest was full of eggs, as many as one hen could cover, but not yet filled with feathers – she was fixing to get it going, but her body hadn’t quite kicked into full broody mode.

So I piled 20 big eggs into a makeshift pouch of the front of my bathrobe, and went for egg crates, coffee, and breakfast. We had lots apples to juice, and tomorrow was the CSA harvest …

INSIDE THE BOX

• Winter squash lil’ butternuts 
• Fennel
• Carrot
• Brussels sprouts 
• Onion
• Kohlrabi 
• Radish daikon 
• Kale
• Pepper
• Eggplant
• Tomatoes