There we were: Jay, myself, my sister Anne, my nephew Evan. We had spent a long morning together, picking fresh produce from the garden to make a big family breakfast. Potatoes were roasted with an assortment of home grown herbs. We snipped collards, spinach, beet leaves, and swiss chard from the vegetable beds and threw it into a scramble using our urban chicken eggs. A huge salad with four varieties of lettuce and rocket from our backyard rounded out the meal. Coffee and orange juice were endless. The sun was shining. It was an all around pleasant morning.
Just after the dishes were done and we were saying our goodbyes, the sound reached our ears at precisely the same time. Everything came to a halt, frozen at once. It wasn’t quite a “cockle-doodle-do”, but it was definitely a clear crow. There was a rooster among us.
We came barreling out of the back door all at the same time, just as a second crow was let out. Breathlessly, we approached the coop. Who? What? Where? Three chickens were in the run, two were in the hen house. And the crow seemed to come from the hen house…
We decided on names for the new flock, which I should share to make this a little less confusing. First off is Pearl, our older araucana. The big Brahma we have named Maude – fashionable and a force to be reckoned with. Our sweet and tame Rhode Island Red is Florence. My favorite, the Plymouth Rock, is now Stella. And finally, the young, brown araucana is now Edna.
Edna and Stella were the two in the hen house. We were so desperate to know who crowed that we stayed outside watching the girls for another hour. But no more crowing ensued.
Is Edna really Ed? Is Stella actually Steve? Edna has always been so skittish anyways, I would love it if this turned out to be the rooster. But, eck, what if it’s Stella! I don’t want to have to say goodbye to sweet Stella! It’s a real nail bitter. Keep you posted – keep your fingers crossed.