You can still buy industrial eggs by the dozen at WalMart for about the cost of a large retail coffee. However, conventional wisdom - and maybe just wisdom itself - now tells us that commercially raised eggs from caged hens is a good idea for neither the hens that lay them nor the humans that consume eggs produced from chemically amended feed in a not-so-happy living place.

Massachusetts ratified that belief with the 2016 passage of an act to prevent cruelty to farm animals. The law bans the confinement of egg-laying hens, veal calves, and breeding pigs. Rather absurdly though, the law demands in vague language that animals must be able to lie down, stand up, fully extend their limbs, and turn around freely. I wonder who enforces that. Each egg layer must be given at least 1.5 feet of usable floor space. Check, egg layers get that much out here at Joshua Farm on Dodd Road, and they have it at a few other outstanding Berkshire County farms.

Egg prices are going up. Eggs, once unfairly villainized as contributors to heart disease (not), are in demand. And now they're unfairly villainized as leaders of inflation. There are a variety of reasons for that.

Nationwide, commercial production isn't keeping up, in large part because of bird flu. Bird flu is headed our way. It is already wreaking havoc on chickens. These days, one sick chicken requires "depopulation" of an entire flock - which can mean up to thousands of slaughtered chickens. No Canada geese will be allowed to park here this summer.

But really there isn't much that can be done except keep your chickens indoors and behind fences, which is not the free range the advertisers - and egg buyers - want. One reason egg prices are going up is to cover biosecurity. Eggs are already $11 at Stop and Shop. As of February 3, Waffle House added a 50-cent per egg surcharge because of rising costs due in part to bird flu.

Like cows, only a small percentage of hens ever get to see sunlight and grass. Eggs from these hens tend to be boring - with whites that won't whip into peaks and pale-yellow yolks that lack the rich orange orbs made of grasshoppers, short grasses, and worms. There really aren't a lot of local egg producers, both because of the heavy losses from predators of all kinds, and the high cost of feed, a shortage of affordable farmland, and housing.

But there are some standouts. Off the Shelf Farm, for instance, a Great Barrington area enterprise made of inspiration and determination.

Getting into the Business

I got into the egg trade years ago when I erected a coop to accommodate a few hens given by a friend whose landlord had banned them. I was impressed how well they roosted in the porch rafters and foraged during the day. They knew where home was and always returned before dark, but the porch was beginning to look like a barn and coyotes, bobcats, bears, and foxes were at the gate. Eventually I relocated them into movable coops.

But the eggs started to pile up. On crutches from foot surgery, I went peddling to local restaurants and retail stores. My predicament reminded me of my mother's periodic encounters with Electrolux salesmen that she always felt sorry for and invited in for conversation before buying some attachment she didn't need.

There weren't takers enough to support my initial stepped-up egg production but in a last-ditch effort I hobbled up to the Red Lion Inn on a suggestion to visit then chef Brian Alberg. I decided that if he said no I'd have to give the hens away and think of something else to do besides milking cows.

"Sure, I'll take them," he said matter of factly while whisking creamy sauce. He fished out the price of $4/dz for 30 dz from the cash drawer in the front lobby.

It went on like that way for a while, until a new chef arrived and wasn't as interested.

The Berkshire Co-Op was next. Then I ventured down the road to the gold standard - Guido's, where you must apply to be counted as a coveted local food vendor.

I handed over a sample of a dozen rainbow eggs - so named because of the variety of colored eggs in the box. A lesson to me from the Amish in Pennsylvania. Guido's samplers, luckily, said yes. And they became exclusive, along with a later addition of duck eggs.

Still, there were days even a couple of years ago during slower winter months when the market wasn't there. So I brought the rest to local food pantries where my eyes were opened about hungry people. I committed to providing at least a few dozen to make sure those not so well off in Norfolk and Great Barrington could also have the benefit of healthy, local produce. An older Italian woman opened a box and rolled a blue egg around in her hand and smiled. I about cried.

Then Guido's expanded and Covid hit and everyone wanted those eggs as local farm products inched their way into popular culture.

Now, there are customers who plan their shopping around Saturday egg deliveries, but only every couple of weeks in the winter when the light is low and fewer eggs survive cracking in frigid temperatures. Some of those determined folks have managed to track down the farm in search of those eggs, which now tend to sell out within hours.

The experiences with customers has been exhilarating. One man complained to Melissa, Guido's buyer, that the box did not include ingredients. When she replied that the box only contains eggs, he insisted that the dye used to color them should have been noted. The eggs are laid by chickens of various heirloom breeds - adding blue, green, white, and brown to the mix.

The hens are given a secret ingredient which sets the bright orange yolks apart - fresh milk.

A woman who couldn't have known that came rushing into the back room after I handed her a box as I walked by her staring at the egg shelves - "These are just what Martha Stewart had!" she blurted, and asked for another box.

Expansion of my egg domain required that I protect my flock with a livestock guardian dog so I acquired Buck, a handsome, bold Maramee/Pyrennes mix. Buck now protects the flock - or at least, mostly.

And costs are rising. A $4,000 feed bill in January and little profit in the cold.

Bird flu?

I'm more worried about red-tailed hawks, which confuse Buck into chasing airplanes.