We know we are in the depth of winter when the pheasants come to the bird feeder. They are the most nervous of birds around here. The slightest shadow across our window will send her running back across the snow into the woods.
The colours and markings of a pheasant are a favourite of mine.
She didn't have a male with her, hope she finds one soon.
She has come two days in a row so far.
Perhaps, if we keep the rusty pups inside at noon when she seems to visit, we will have the pleasure of her company more often.