Mirror, Mirror, in the Pit.

There are many of these old pits in this area. They were dug out many years ago to collect flint to build with. None of them is particularly deep as the flint only occurs in the top layers under the soil.

Another sign of this wet winter. The water can no longer permeate through the bottom of the pits and I found three around the woods at Friday Street that have become miniature ponds. I stopped Maera, just as she was about to leap in this one and managed to hold her time enough to take this shot. It was late, the sun was disappearing behind the trees and I wished I'd had the tripod with me.

Left only with one strong hen and one who still refuses to give up, although she still can't walk, I'd left it late to walk the dogs as I hoped to make catching my new flock easier. They still gave us the run around. I didn't really want another cockerel but as I was bringing home three Wyandotte girls to replace the foxes rampage, it was sensible to take the offer of a handsome blue laced boy so I can hatch the eggs to keep the breed. Now in the other half the pen where the four Araucanas are, I'll give them a couple of days to get used to each other before allowing them to mix. Hopefully the new hens will start laying in a few days. I am really missing my own eggs.