Bravo!​

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Obi loves chasing pheasants (he never catches them) but in Spring I stop him from doing so because Spring is mating season and apart from not wanting him to get in the way of the mating process, it means I get to watch one of natures great free shows - pheasant dancing.

I remember the first time I saw a male pheasant going through it’s courtship ritual. It’s plumage all glossy and puffed out, red wattle enlarged, strutting. marching back and forth, bowing, throwing out one wing, fluttering the other high in the air to make the light dance off his feathers making them dazzle from orange, to brown, to red, to purple, to green - it was so dramatic and reminded me of a passionate Flamenco dancer.

They dance to try to gather as many females as possible - almost hypnotising them in the process and once a female is impressed enough, she’s his for the season. So my pheasant is imagined as one of the greatest Flamenco dancers of all time, Joaquin Cortes - exactly as he was when I enjoyed my first performance.