No pheasants now.  The 'season of mists' is upon us, but not 'mellow fruitfulness'.   The season was poor because of a strange weather pattern.   And the pheasants suffered gradual depletion during the summer.   First the ladies disappeared, two of them, and then, one morning, Philip and Philippa alone appeared, very bedraggled and missing a number of feathers.   I suspect that a fox has found their hideout.   Occasionally, one or the other appeared after that, but eventually, in October, neither of them came at all.  I had broken my leg whilst walking in the lakes, so could not feed them anyway for a while.   In the last week or so, Philip or a male relative has appeared, slowly picking his way across the denuded field, stripped of its precious oilseed rape.  So all now has slowed down, with apparently no expectation of recovery.  But...

Morning Ritual

Phyllis came early this morning.   No male noises, she was on her own.   At her request I put out a fat ball.   She ran to devour it, pecking first at the few bits that had fallen off as I dropped it.   Her sister Philippa wasn't with her on this occasion, though yesterday both girls and their master Philemon shared a meal together.  She had almost finished when Phil appeared, rushing at her from the side lawn.   Off she flew, discerning his amorous intent, and for a long time there was no sign of either of them.   Then Phil appeared, slowly stalking back to the lawn.   He paid no attention to the few bits of the ball left, strutting with as much dignity as he could muster to disguise his failure.

Here is a picture of what they were up to yesterday.