The Red Pheasant

There is a new pheasant around. He is a traditional rich red colour, not like my old faithful turquoise one, who I nurtured from a tiny brown and cream ball of fluff, running around on spindly legs and oversized feet. Ostracized by his siblings and very nervous, he learned to trust me and as he grew, stopped following his family, who continually chased him away, and he learned to live on his own. Of course, I was not to know that this turquoise wonder would turn out to be so handsome, as all through his adult phase he wore the usual young male garb of a female pheasant.


He lives in and around the garden, and the slightest view through the window of one of his human friends brings him running for a handful of food. This winter, however, he has been joined by the new, previously mentioned, pheasant. Sometimes they are together, and increasingly often, they are apart. The new rich red one is very nervous of humans, which is a good thing really, but he bullies the faithful old turquoise and the other creatures. As soon as the squirrels appear, the turquoise pheasant rushes away across the lawn as if he fears for his safety, where as the new red one stands his ground, puffs up his feathers until he is almost twice his size, holds out his wings slightly and slowly advances on the squirrels, who immediately take off. He tries these same tactics on pigeons with excellent results. In the beginning, the pigeons, who were used to the quiet turquoise pheasant retreating and leaving all the food for them, were surprised when the red one exhibited different behavior, and they tried to ignore him and snatch up all the food, however, the red pheasant had another trick up his sleeve – this one a winner. When his tactics had no effect on the pigeons, he would suddenly rush at them and peck them. Feathers would fly and so did the pigeons. They have now learned he is the new boss and they instantly give way to him.

Finally Sunshine

Driving to Reading along the A414 we see flooded fields and deeper than we have seen for a long time. The view is stunning with the bright sun reflecting off the moving water in the flooded fields. Everywhere is bright and light – it seems ages since we have seen sunshine such as this.

There are so many catkins showing with the sunlight on them. Because the winter has been so cold and so wet the trunks and branches of the leafless trees shine moss green. On the grass verge, just before the big Tesco store at Hatfield, sat a big grey rabbit in the sunshine. He was just sitting, meditatively chewing and, I imagine, enjoying the sun’s warmth.

On the edge of the M4, approaching Slough, I watched a crow or rook mobbing a red kite.

Fifty Goldfinches

The wind picked up the brown, crispy, dried winter leaves and danced across the lawn with them.

Yesterday the moorhen spent all day in our pond.

We are still experiencing days of cold with sudden snow flurries; today is no exception.

Each afternoon between 4 and 5 we are entertained by charm of goldfinches flying to and fro, back and forth, around, over and through our garden briefly settling every few minutes , then up and off again. It is a large number – upward of fifty. How good to see so many.

Now we are in the middle of a snowstorm. It is settling so thick and fast you cannot even see beyond the end of the garden into the fields beyond.

Tough Winter for the Birds

I recently read a report on the death of birds this very cold winter, especially mentioned were wrens and dunnocks, so I am very happy to note that it is rare that I don’t see both of these each time I look out of a window. We are so lucky to have not lost these particular inhabitants of our garden.

Jean told me, on the telephone, that they have lost all the blue tits visiting their garden and maybe the robin as well.

Corvid and Seagull

It is a dreary, grey, drizzly day. On the drive to Reading, we passed a stretch of road along which shrubs had been planted between trees, although leafless, this stretch was beautiful. Several trees were bedecked with hanging catkins in shades from pinkish to cream and yellow. There were bare stems of red and yellow and small trees covered in small fir cones.

I watched a large corvid and a seagull tussling with each other: chasing, wheeling, diving, swooping, swiftly turning on each other until eventually the seagull chased its large black aggressor away.

Freezing January

January remained throughout an extremely cold month with much snow, sleet and rain, freezing nights and grey days. The first sound to greet me each morning was the plaintiff trill of the robin sitting by the window, patiently waiting – some mornings impatiently as he has flown to the bird table, whilst I am still in the process of filling it. One morning I delightedly watched a covey of eight red legged partridges at the end of the garden, such pretty birds. I always feel an inner glow when I watch them, especially through binoculars and am able to pick out their fine markings. They are a striking looking bird as is the moorhen, this year only one; wandering all over the garden and helping himself to the bird food when he happens near it.

The pond has been frozen for much of January, but now it is liquid again and the moorhen spends most of his day in it. We are also visited daily by a charm of goldfinches, beautiful little birds with red faces, they are drawn to the seeds on a patch of lemon balm plants, Every summer I forget how valuable these plants are and because they seed so well, I cause most of them to be weeded out, forgetting that if I left them in, I would have much more pleasure at this time of year and the birds would certainly profit much more.

Last autumn, two new squirrels found our garden and for the first time this has happened built a drey, it is high up in the silver birch tree, almost on top of a pigeons’ nest. Today I watched the pigeons, the female settled on top of the drey and, as if taking revenge for the placement of it so near to their home, proceeded to mate, after the fourth time they flew to a nearby branch and settled down leaving the drey looking decidedly squashed. The squirrels remain a constant source of interest and pleasure, one morning I watched one eat a goodly amount, then taking the next piece of food with him, he climbed about 25 feet up a leafless tree and sitting on a bare branch ate it, afterwards stretching out along the branch, he fell fast asleep. It was a sunless day with a biting wind and the temperature below zero -- amazing he could sleep stretched out in those conditions with just his fur coat to keep him warm. We have catkins, primroses, aconites, hellebores, the beautifully perfumed viburnum bodnantense and camellias all blooming, so spring must be coming.