Have you ever really experienced a chicken lot? To those who haven't it may be strange to think that one can be a special place, as ours is for me. I have many memories of time spent with my chickens in our chicken yard and coop; some just observing the chickens' daily life, others gathering eggs, cleaning the coop, and the many other various activities of a chicken coop. For me, though it may seem a little out of ordinary, our chicken lot holds a place very dear in my heart. Perhaps I can give you a glimpse into our coop that will help you better understand what it means to me. Open a can of corn, dig a few nightcrawlers from the garden, or bring a few of the extra tomatoes; let's visit the chicken lot...

As you approach our chicken lot you may first notice the fence enclosing the chicken yard and coop. Since we see it every day, my family and I are used to its appearance, but to the first time observer it may still seem to be overkill. I admit that as construction of it progressed, my aunt dubbed it the Fort Knox of chicken coops. Though the welded wire is getting older, bent, stretched, and saggy in some places, it stands about four and a half feet tall and extends underground half a foot to deter any excavating predators. Running securely around the base is chicken wire to contain small chicks that would fit through the larger gaps. For the corner posts we implanted telephone poles in the earth but for the spanning sections iron fence posts suffice.

As you enter into the lot, open the gate cautiously: be aware of where the birds have positioned themselves and deter any would be escapees with your leg or bucket. Try not to close the door on any chickens, please.

Inside the coop, showing the nesting boxes, separate rooster area, and folding roost.

Do not be surprised when you find yourself surrounded by a mob of chickens. Our friendly birds surely spied you approaching and are just looking for goodies and attention. Now, spread the treat you brought around and revel in their clucks of content as they dash from one area to another, vacuuming up your gift with their beaks. Watch, listen, look around.

A quarter of our chicken run, once sectioned off for a time when roosters were numerous, remains empty most of the time now to preserve the meager grass that grew from the seeds I spread. We open the chicken door to this area occasionally as a treat to the chickens, but to leave it open would bring an end to the grass. The common area has become an area devoid of plants and peppered with the remains of our extra garden produce from continuous use. Some portions of the dirt have impressions from the chickens dusting activities so watch your step. There may still be remains of the girls' morning scratch (a mixture of wheat, oats, cracked corn, and barley) on the ground and in the wooden trough beside the coop. In the winter there will be straw bales along the base of the building for insulation from the icy winds. Before you leave you can flip them over and let the chickens eat the worms and bugs underneath.

The chickens have probably finished off the food by now and you are ready to go into the building. Though some of the chickens went back to their normal routines (scratching in the dirt and dusting), others may remain scattered around your feet, so move cautiously. By the way, watch out especially for our rooster Moped as you walk through. He likes to "innocently" draw near you (in other words, sneak up on you) and flog your leg when you are not looking.

To enter the building you just open the blue wooden door, then the screen door at the front and step up. The hanging feeder, now modified with an oil pan to stop food from being flicked on the floor, is right inside the door. To the immediate right are roosts, designed by my dad to fold up against the wall for easy cleaning. The back half has been fenced off for the rooster section but now the door remains open to the flow of any gender. Watch out above! Though not intended, many of our chickens decided that the rafters of the building are their preferred roosting. Falling items can make an interesting visit. On the left wall is the plastic garbage can housing the scratch and chicken feed, and beside it are the abodes of our cache; the nesting boxes.

Peering into each box you might find an empty nest, a few fake eggs (to encourage the girls to lay in the right spot), some real eggs, or a hen. For the ones that are unoccupied just reach in, sort the real eggs from the fake and place them in your basket or shirt. You can also attempt to hold them all against your body with one arm. For the occupied nests: most of the time you are able to easily take the eggs from the hens; slip your hand under their body, retrieve the warm eggs, and ignore the protest and disgruntled looks you receive. Sometimes, however, the occupant is a tad feistier and you must expect the flash of a beak and pinch of your skin. One of the more creative ones might even treat you to her stylish pinch and twist.

From time to time you will reach into a nesting box for eggs and extract a goo-coated hand. Wasn't expecting that. This will happen every so often when, whether by accident or intention, an egg gets broken by a hen. Upon your discovery, shuffle all of your care packages into an empty nest and begin the process of cleaning up. Using the eggshell, scoop up the gooey insides, then carry the blob outside to throw over the fence into the tall grass. However, if the broken egg happens to have been underneath a hen it is now time to consider ways to clean the egg innards off her underside. Hopefully, when you finish and return, another hen has not plopped herself down in the nest you used to store the eggs.

Kate feeds the chickens corn, a special treat she uses to help keep them friendly and used to her presence.

With the chicken deposits, broken eggs, and the many other factors that make a coop what it is, the atmosphere of the building can become a tad "pungent" after awhile. Time to clean! If you happen to have come along on a scheduled coop changing weekend you might get to partake in the cleansing as well. Break out the wheelbarrels, snow shovels, various scraping tools, and new bales of wood shavings, then set to work. Amongst the feathers, squawks of protest, and hens that refuse to move from their nest, shovel all the old bedding out of nooks and crannies into the wheelbarrel to be dumped elsewhere. Empty the nesting boxes (after removing the objecting hens) and try to clean the place up as well as can be.

Though you might not have stayed the cleanest during the overhaul, you finally reach the worthwhile end. With the fresh wood shavings installed the coop smells and looks pretty good. The chickens, just beginning to recover from their indignation and flighty fears, are peering in the door as we gather the tools. Some of the more eager hens have even reclaimed the prime nesting seats already. Beginning the cycle anew, the first package has already dropped.

Once your egg gathering duty is fulfilled, the coop changed, and the morning water and feed are taken care of, you can just sit on the cinder block in the yard to watch and talk to the chickens. Some are more than happy to eat scratch from your hand and perhaps even perch on your arm. Sometimes you cannot help but chuckle as the rooster Moped, who is lower in the hierarchy, is quickly reminded of his place by Sultan, the dominant rooster (especially if Moped has just attacked you).