In a previous post I commented that chickens remind me of dinosaurs. They are jointed the same way and move like tiny, feathered versions of the villainous and ferocious velociraptor. What I also found out this morning, on my way up to the farm house, is that they loath snow and wind. We had a bit of a winter storm overnight. I was rocking in my camper and there was quite a bit of snow when I awoke, much of which was being violently blown around. As I pass the chicken coops I see Big Boy, one of the rooster, and another chicken doing their best to brace themselves against the wind and trying to keep the snow from between their toes, doing that goofy foot shaky thing cats also do when they get wet paws. There are few things more pathetic than a chicken trying to battle the wind, with all its feathers facing the wrong direction, a look of desperation in it’s eyes and an air of “you’ve got to be kidding me!” about it. A wet cat or a child who has just dropped his ice-cream on the street come to mind.