Mr. Collins (so named for his uncanny resemblance to the dowdy clergyman from Pride and Prejudice) is making some sort of urgent announcement.
He could be alerting the girls to eminent danger (in the form of predators, or, you know, leaves), or he could be asserting his domination over Salty, his only competition for the ladies' affections. Both roosters are bantams (i.e., smaller than average versions), however, Mr. Collins is a smidge less bantamy than Salty, making him the big (snicker) man on campus. If only the ladies were a bit more convinced of his rooster prowess.
Mr. Collins could also be complaining about the weather or the quality of treats currently available to him. OR he is just really proud of his raspy, starts off-strong-but-peters-out, crow. COCK-A-DOodle-do?
It must be important because the guineas have lost their minds again and are bouncing about the chicken yard like pinballs whilst shrieking their (most unfortunate) alarms. It's okay, folks, the farm isn't burning down; it's just my guineas.
Regardless, the flock is in generally good spirits today, what, with like 7 hours of no rain. Alpha hen Helen's once-white feathers are only moderately dingy today - an improvement over her typical red-mud coated/wet dog impersonation. The Buffy's (aka Thing One and Thing Two) have a clear fashion advantage on rainy days due to their buff-colored feathering. Oh, and don't think they don't know it! Always scampering about with coy little chicken smirks, "what? is it raining? we hadn't noticed." Ah, but the rest of the flock is on to them. The Buffy's have been effectively banished from the roost at bedtime, leaving them to shuffle and teeter on the slanted nest box roof.