This handsome guy is our California White rooster -- Gregory Peck (the name I've given most of our roosters over the years. )
Now that the garden is over, John lets the chickens out in the afternoon and they have begun to find their way to the porch in search of stray dog food or sunflower seeds.
He was wary . . . but he hung around long enough for me to get some good shots of what T.H. White called "mad marigold eyes" and a nice silhouette of his intricate comb. Which reminds me of a story. . .
Oftimes in a hard winter, the tips of the combs will freeze, turn black, and fall off. It doesn't seem to bother the bird but is does detract from their beauty.
One year, after such a cold snap, a friend of mine who was living with us (a literary type who probably had in mind the word 'coxcomb,') went around telling folks that it had been so cold that the chickens' cocks had fallen off.