I'm inside looking out. I'm inside sitting by a warm radiator watching the rain falling outside. I can see the chicken run. I can't see any chickens, but I can see two pinky beaks poking out of the chicken house doorway. I think it's fair to say that our six new chickens are unimpressed with their change of circumstances. Today they have refused to come out of the house. As there are no older birds to show them the way, I'm not sure if today's no show is reluctance to face the harsh reality of Wales in February during the wettest winter on record, or simply lack of free range experience. I'm not convinced its the latter as although their 20 week life to date from hatch to market has been confined to a barn, yesterday evening instinctive behaviour kicked in and all six birds knew what the drinker was for, knew what they would find in the feeder and knew to go to bed in the house before dark. I'm starting to worry that reluctance will be stronger than instinct and that dislike of rain will lead to dehydration and starvation. Letting your chickens die within 24 hours of arrival would not be a good thing. I think it's time to drag myself away from the warm window seat, get the waterproofs on and go have a word with the girls.