I may have said it before, but this has to be one of my least favourite moments of the year - the weekend the clocks go back.
Surely it is an anachronism at this stage: we do not live in the extreme north and few children, if any, still walk to school and I would have thought that an extra hour of light in the evening is of more benefit than a brighter morning.

And, so I read, hens are also motivated by light: it is what encourages them to lay apparently.
Well, my four beautiful girls gave up laying, one by one, over the past month or six weeks and we have not had a single egg for more than a week.
So I despair of when I will next see one as the days shorten and this precious hour is stolen from man and fowl.

And you would not believe how poor is an egg from the shop - however free-range or organic - in comparison to one of my girls eggs.

And, just as teperature begins to drop to freezing some nights, Helen and Prudence have decided to moult! And they are a sorry, sorry sight.

Irma (the black one) has already done so and is now resplendant in fine new plumage but I fear that Sinead (the white one behind Irma) is yet to go - she always does things last in her particular, confused way.

But at least they are all still alive after more than two years here.
I hear constantly of others loosing their hens to foxes, foxes that have broken into hen runs and hen houses and wreaked havoc and carnage.

Now, as you know, we live surrounded by trees, on the edge of extensive woodland and at the very epicentre of hunting country: indeed a master of the hunt is a next door neighbour.
And, as I'm sure I will also have mentioned, the girls are only shut into their run when I am away from home. Otherwise they roam-free from dawn to dusk wherever they please - including into the woods!
I hope I haven't spoken too soon

While I'm on fowl matters there is further news in this regard.

I mentioned, way back in April 2010 that we used to have a pair of pigeons that lived in the mill.
We weren't sure what kind or class of pigeon they were but we had romantic notions that they were homing pigeons that had decided to give up the struggle and settle for a quiet rural life.
But they had left us at that time.

But to our delight they returned earlier this year and then, to our further excitement, they became three.
Recently, now to our surprise, they became six, then eight and, at the highest count, twelve. They would all pace up and down the ridge of the mill roof, fly-off and return.
Sue mentioned this to Lorcan Scott, the district wild-life ranger, and he surmised that the original pair, or three, were likely to be Stock Doves Columba Oenas.He went on to explain that the increase in numbers was likely to be wood pigeons moving in on their territory and advised a course of action but, before I implemented same, the imposters left of their own accord.

I hope they stay - they cheer me in these dark days...........