rebalancing the flock

Rooster Gaspar, looking less than heroic, hides in the elderberry thicket, giving new (or old?) meaning to "junglefowl." He's sodden, a result of our day-long rain here (yes, what's with that? And do chickens remember rain from winter to winter or need a few recent episodes to learn that they will be more comfortable inside?), and furtive, understandably so, because we culled eight of his male colleagues from the flock this morning. (And yes, that should be cause for celebration, but apparently not just yet.) The morning reapers included the cheerful and steady Lynne (from Boston via Alaska), the Guv, yours truly, and Frederik, recently returned from Cambridge UK to Kingbird. All of the team cheerfully plucked feathers, most eviscerated, and it was all over in a remarkably efficient 90 minutes or so. Not bad for a generally over-educated group, I'd say.