On one of my regular routes there’s this beautiful hillside that makes a lovely arc against the sky.
It’s often dotted with cattle, but seldom are they close enough to make a decent photo.
This week they were all basking in the early evening sun on the westward lea of the hill making excellent abstract designs.
Also on the same route I get to drop in on the egg man.
Have I mentioned the egg man? His farm has the classic “fresh eggs” sign at the end of the drive way. I stop in fairly frequently to pick up a carton of eggs.
This summer, the egg man and his wife, Joyce, have been in their garden each time I’ve dropped by.
Last time I went, I asked if it would be ok to take a few photos of the chickens.
I was lucky, apparently, as most of the crops were finished for the year and the chickens’ various coops were open and they were allowed to take over the farm.
There were chickens everywhere. The the soft clucking and gurgling was enough to make me giggle and cluck back as they scratched in the soil having a great time doing their chicken things.
Thanks, ladies. My breakfasts wouldn’t be the same without you.