If There's Singing in the Hen Pen

It is Sweet Violet who is carrying the "tune."  She seems to be talking to herself mostly, though a poorly aimed peck from a sister hen causes a protest squawk intended to be heard.  Generally speaking, her song is only a gentle little "brawk. . .brawk. . .brawk" as she drifts about the hen yard doing chicken things:  scratching and pecking in the dirt.

This morning was very different.  Violet went from Sweet to Urgent in her tone.  The "brawk. . .brawk" was now Brawk and BRAWK as she paced insistently up the slope to the north end of the pen and then back down past the coop to the berry patch.  Things I get to do today always takes me out early in the morning to release the girls from their coop, do a light cleanup from their night inside and toss them a grain treat.  My chores took me past Violet several times, and I admonished her repeatedly to keep her voice down or the neighbors would complain.

Violet's first egg since coming to the flock nearly four weeks ago.

When the tidying was finished, Violet was in the coop, still pacing, but in front of the nest boxes.  Her urgency was now clear to me.