Seven eggs is a lot. I collect them, gleefully, like I am finding gold coins left hidden in the crook of an old tree. It's dreamy.
Once upon a time, all the hens managed to slip passed me, out the door of their enclosure and into the open yard. I protested. If they're out before they're done laying, I suspect they will lay eggs in hidden spots throughout the yard. Exasperated, yet amused, I resigned myself to letting them enjoy their freedom. It's no small task rounding up a flock of flighty hens, when they've just been sprung. Emma Thompson heard the kerfuffle and left her nest, hasty, and eager not to be left behind. I found five eggs in one nest, and none where Emma Thompson left in her hurry. As I was walking to the kitchen with the eggs I found, William called me back, a bemused smile on his face, and a small speckled egg in his hand. He saw the black and white speckled hen, Emma Thompson, stop in her tracks, nesting in the path just long enough to finish her business!