It's 9pm; it's dark outside but I have a light in the coop because even in August, we only have 14 hours of daylight, here at this latitude. I go out to lock the coop up...
The White Leghorn, who has never yet laid an egg (her companions have been laying a week or less, themselves), is playing with the litter on the floor. The litter is moss, raked from my yard. She is standing, picking up strands, and twisting her head around to deposit them on her back, first one side and then the other, over and over.
Finally, she climbs into the nest box. She fusses with the moss, reaching out into the coop to pull more in...dumping each strand or clump on her back, first one side and then the other.
I've heard of hens fussing with the straw or shavings, but this thing with the moss was just a crackup.
I suppose maybe there will be an egg in the morning but why oh why lay it at 9:00 at night?
The White Leghorn, who has never yet laid an egg (her companions have been laying a week or less, themselves), is playing with the litter on the floor. The litter is moss, raked from my yard. She is standing, picking up strands, and twisting her head around to deposit them on her back, first one side and then the other, over and over.
Finally, she climbs into the nest box. She fusses with the moss, reaching out into the coop to pull more in...dumping each strand or clump on her back, first one side and then the other.
I've heard of hens fussing with the straw or shavings, but this thing with the moss was just a crackup.

I suppose maybe there will be an egg in the morning but why oh why lay it at 9:00 at night?