I moved the feeders and water jugs first, placing one of each into the coop and then the run. I also scattered a layer of pine shavings on the floor of the coop so the little chicken feet would have something soft to walk on. Hubby opened the hatch leading to the run, and we were ready.
The chickens, quite vociferous due to their buffet removal, were the next to go. Hubby and I carefully toted the first bin across the yard and out to the coop. The birds had suddenly become strangely quiet. First exposure to sunlight evidently quells the need to complain over lack of vittles. We placed the bin on the floor of the coop, shut the door, and waited.
|The previous premises!|
We repeated the procedure with the remaining tub of birds, with the same results. We watched the two groups of birds get reacquainted, and after a few moments, slipped quietly out the door.
I returned a while later, to make sure there were no casualties due to the trauma of the move. I found myself a seat next to the yard and watched and waited. At last, one of the chickens peeked out of the hatch and realized there was even more to this new world than the enormous new building.
|Sneaking a peek.|
Slowly, more chickens made their way to the opening, all too scared to venture outside. After what seemed like forever, a couple of them stepped onto the ramp, and when they weren't immediately struck dead, hopped down into the yard itself.
Hubby joined me after a while, as the birds explored their territory, darting frantically from one end of the yard to the other. We watched as they flapped and ran and cavorted now that they finally had the room to do so. Once we were sure they were all right, we left them to their own devices, confident that they would learn how to "chicken" without our interference.
If the Lord delights in us, then He will bring us into this land and give it to us, ‘a land which flows with milk and honey.’ Numbers 14:8