No, I'm not talking about people who go from Canada to the southern US for several months each year, although they are snowbirds of a different sort. Today, I'm talking about chickens. Chickens in the snow. We had quite a bit of snow fall in the area recently - probably about 12 inches or so.
Today, it was a little warmer - above freezing even! I had to go out into the fenced area where the chickens generally roam in order to put some wood into the basement for the wood furnace. The flock watched me as I traipsed through the coop, decked out in my insulated coveralls and heavy gloves. I think they thought I was quite mad to be going out in that sea of white.
I decided it was high time for them all to get out into the sun so I went back into the coop and shooed everybody outside. This caused a cacophony of aggrieved cackling and flapping, but out they went. Some of them went onto the steps quite timidly, but others burst out the coop door in a cannonball-like effort of feathers and feet. I hadn't quite anticipated that level of enthusiasm, nor had I anticipated that several of them would fly directly up into the tree, presumably to avoid the snow.
The first of the candidates was one of my lovely golden-laced Polish hens, named Thistle. She was in snow that was several inches deep and as I approached, she began to look somewhat alarmed, but was unable to escape her snowy situation.
I set off after my second escapee - Almondine - a cross breed bantam hen. She was hiding behind a tree, keeping a wary eye on my approach.