The Last Chicken

The cycle of seasons catches me by surprise this time of year. Summer is a blur, often seeming like she will live on forever. Then that first cold morning comes, like a dinner bell ringing far off, reminding children to come home. Without the bell, their play would carry on until dark.

A Killing Frost

Our first signs of frost have come and gone. This week we had a "killing frost," as our vegetable farmer friends call it, because the frost kills all the plants in the garden that do not survive freezing temperatures, like tomatoes, melons, and cucumbers.

The Last Chicken

Another sign for me is "the last chicken," as we call it. All summer, that last chicken seems as distant as snowfall, and yet, at 3 pm this past Monday, Keygon swaggered into the processing facility holding the last chicken. The whole team was in the processing room helping get the last of the chickens into the cooler.

We all did a silly chicken dance and exchanged high fives all around. We did it. Over 10,000 chickens in one year.

Putting the Chicken World to Bed

The chicken coops now appear to be abandoned in a strange, staggered formation in the field, each field coop resting in the last spot where it provided shelter to its last batch of chickens. This week we will clean them and "put the chicken world to bed" for the long winter rest before we start again next spring.

Your Farmer,

Nathan Henderson
Reber Rock Farm
Essex, New York