I love the call of the pheasant. To me it's the call of the wild.
This particular pheasant has made his roost around the house and the nearby woods where he squawks regularly. I love the sight and sound of him. I've named him Fezzie.
His plumage, I'm sure is the envy of fly fisherman, hat makers, flower shops and feather lovers everywhere. Their iridescence, when shining in the sun, give off the most wonderful sheen.
With that said, Fezzie won't be on our menu anytime soon. But rabbit and groundhog (ewwww) might be, if they do not quit eating my garden veggies.
(I like rabbits, I just don't like battling them for MY rabbit food )