Last week I shot this photo of Dusty hiding under the table while snow came down all around her. Today, she looks every inch as though she’s sitting up at the table expecting to be fed. She probably is actually, expecting to be fed that is, they are completely spoiled.

I can’t claim this is anything other than a grab shot, taken in low light with the camera lens pointing out from my office window but nonetheless I actually quite like it despite its graininess and softness of focus (camera shake to you and me).

She’s devilishly handsome don’t you think?

Since I first started keeping chickens, it must be 11-12 years ago now, I’ve learned to recognise their looks in terms of what we can expect from them. She’s now beautifully feathered again after a tatty period around Christmas when she had her annual moult. They’ve all finished moulting now except for Jack, who has shed her feathers but her new ones are not fully established yet, giving her the look of a chicken-tramp!

According to the red-ness of her comb, she’s about to start laying again. When they moult, their combs go pale pink and shrink down almost into their heads. They stop laying and don’t start again until shortly after Christmas – we think it’s the lengthening days that encourage them to start again, though this is a complete guess. You’ll see her comb is looking quite big and it’s certainly more red than pink now.

Her eggs are pointed and white. Very pretty. If we don’t see one of her eggs appearing in a nest box over the next few days, it’ll be time to search the garden for a nest elsewhere. Sometimes when they restart they get confused about where to lay.

Although it’s not really a problem if they lay in other places, it just makes collecting the eggs more difficult so we try to encourage them to use the facilities provided rather than find their own.

She’s come out of her moult, coming out of her barren winter patch and coming out from under the table.