Despite the fact that William and I have yet to fix our swamp cooler for the season, we have been anxiously awaiting an afternoon warm enough to allow us to finally let our chicks earn the name 'free range.' Such an afternoon came this week, and we picked up our fist-fulls of feathers and deposited them in a shaded, warm nook, in our flower bed, next to the garage. They peeped excitedly for a bit, and then settled down to try a beak-full of everything. They pecked at bugs, they pecked at dirt, they pecked at grass, they pecked at leaves, they pecked at wood, they pecked at each other. And, where-ever they went, and what-ever they did, they did it together.
Red, the most alert and assertive of our chicks, the literal top of our little pecking order, is always the leader. She is the first to try a new plant and she is the first to scurry to a new area. The others follow immediately and in a bit of panic, behind. They stay together, no matter what. Our little dark Aracuna, whose little fluffy butt is white, was distracted for a moment while the others moved to a new area. She started to peep the most horrified little peeps imaginable. So we scooped her up and dropped her with the others.
In all, they seemed extremely content to be outside.
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