I suppose the world is pretty damn confusing when it was once egg-shaped and rather smaller and smoother than it turns out to be. Having watched our six babies hatch, I can say without much fear of contradiction, that they hatch with a surprised expression that clearly says "WTF??!!!"
Thrashing around on a wire floor is really not as it was meant to be. They're supposed to hatch into a warm nest under a snuggly mother whose feathers will wick away the moisture of birth.
In an incubator that can't happen, however. As soon as they're dry enough not to be chilled, I whisk them into the pre-warmed brooder so they can finish drying in more relative comfort.
I think it might be nice to crochet them a little chicken mother to snuggle with, although I must say they seem to be imprinting on me nicely, and even Alan is charmed. A couple of them (when they're not sleeping) rush to jump into my hand when I reach into the brooder, and none seems particularly disturbed.
They sleep in fuzzy lumps, like fields of new dandelions, and seem to wake and rise as one to eat, drink and play.
There is one chick--the first who hatched, who is somewhat larger that the others, and he or she is somewhat more aloof. Perhaps I should say that this one is the explorer of the bunch, and the others seem to follow this one's lead.
There are two eggs left in the incubator... perhaps I still have two more chicks to come...?
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