"Thunderous Tides"Moa, a Barred Plymouth Rock and also the boss hen of my flock, is tremendous in her girth. At times she is truly large beyond imagination, and is seen here emerging from the ocean. Don’t be jealous of her thunderous thighs!

The gulls are in no danger. She is too rotund to give chase.

Corel Painter, acrylic brush.

Have a mighty need for a print?


Some of my sweet chillruns.
Don’t you even dare say they don’t have sweet faces, I will kick you so hard

Chickadee (floppy comb) and Moa (upright comb), Plymouth Barred Rock hens.
Coho, Salmon Faverolles hen (cream colored with a beard and muffs)
Mildred, black Cochin hen
Baron Rufflerump (or just Bubbles, to us), blue Cochin rooster (photographed in the grass)

I have come to discover that chickens have as varied a range of personalities as people. Some are quiet and shy, other are downright flighty and jump at the tiniest thing, a few are stoic and level-headed, while others are far more clever than any poultry has the right to be, and then there are some that just… defy explanation.

One such bird is my gal, Blue Moon. She is so lacking in the smarts department that I am amazed she doesn’t kill herself on a daily basis. She overreacts at the tiniest things, which often results in her upsetting the entire flock. Sometimes she acts out by running around without reason, flapping and jumping as if she were being pursued by some invisible predator. Other times she’ll go inexplicably aggressive, drawing stiff beatings from the higher, stronger, and more intelligent members of the flock. She’s pushy with the food, never wants to share her “special” nest box, is a flailing idiot when it comes time to perch at night and knocks the other birds off their spots in her attempts to get in just the right position. And on top of all of that, she’s a terrible mother, much to my sorrow and the sorrow of the unfortunate chicks who end up in her care. Her single surviving baby is one of the most maladjusted young roosters I have ever met.

Putting all of that aside, however, she has certain days where she just Never. Shuts. Up. “Is it time to lay an egg? Better scream at the top of my lungs! Oh, hey, there’s my egg! I just laid it! Hey everyone! LOOK AT MY EGG. LOOK AT IT. Oh crap, some geese just flew overhead, holy crap guys. GUYS. GUYS. HEY. Oh hey! WAS THAT THING GOING TO EAT ME? I think that thing is going to EAT ME. NOOOO. What was I doing? OH MAN. FOOD. LOOK AT ALL OF THIS FOOD. There’s a good spot to scratch at over here. WOW, DIRT. Oh crap it’s really windy. I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER WHILE RUNNING OUT OF THE COOP FOR NO REASON, WHO’S WITH ME?!”

Pretty much her only saving grace is that she is a gorgeous bird.