What bliss it is, after the winter we’ve had, to soak up the warm spring sunshine.

The barn opens to the East, and in the fall, winter and spring collects the sun. In the summer, the sun’s angle in the sky ensures no hot afternoon rays reach inside, giving the residents a cool, shady refuge. The builders sure got that right.

When I let the chickens out at lunchtime, some beeline over to George and the donkeys’ sunny stalls, then sprawl on their sides, top wing outspread and eyes closed. Others graze the tender new grass, warm sun on their backs.

I don’t think I have ever seen a rounder, prettier chicken than my blue laced red Wyandotte, she looks like Matisse painted her, and she’s a great layer too. It’s all her fault that I’ve hatched three batches of Wyandottes from breeders across Canada this year.

The two roosters taunt each other, as usual. They take turns guarding the flock and the one who is free for the day loses no time in running over to show off to the one who is not.

Chance and BattleChicken lackadaisically tweak each other’ behinds and I doze in my lawn chair, my happy place on a sunny spring day.