My girlfriend Emma and I moved this weekend from London (Finsbury Park) to the village of
Great Wymondley.
After getting out of the car, we were walking up to our new house when Emma said, "There's a chicken in our garden." Sure enough, sitting in a flower bed in the front garden (I still want to say "yard" for "garden") was a live chicken.
As we went back and forth throughout the day moving stuff into the house, the chicken came and went, and at one point appeared to be digging into the flower bed to make a nest (I know nothing about chickens; maybe it was trying to dig for food, or possibly to China). Later on that day, the chicken was gone.
Today, Emma called to chat while I was working, and said that she'd been sitting in the back garden enjoying the sunshine. She got up to go inside, and found the chicken standing at the back patio door (which was open), looking into the house as though trying to decide whether or not to go on in. The chicken wandered off as Emma approached, and hasn't been seen since.
So far living in the country is great. Despite the random poultry encounters, it's exceptionally quiet.
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