The rooster made a noise I had never heard before--similar to the proud exclamation of a hen announcing an egg fresh-laid, but in the rooster's throatier voice, and a bit more commanding. Obviously, he has not just laid an egg. So what are you saying, rooster? I look over and the hens are all under the coop. He is still making this unusual call from within the protection of the inner pen. I follow his gaze--oh, a hawk. He joins his flock under the coop.
Later, he crows from the yard and the hens come out to scratch and peck.
It was about this time last year, in the flock's pre-rooster days, that one hen lost her head to a hawk. Good job, Mr. Rooster.
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