Every time I think the words two pheasants fighting, my brain immediately shouts FIVE GOLDEN RINGS. I don’t know either. But here are pictures of…two pheasants fighting.
Things are quiet around here lately. Writing about making jam and weeding the garden and trying to tame the weeds (OMG the weeds) and massive rhubarb plants in the side yard…whew. It’s not that exciting to read. I’m okay with it, as my general desire to live like it’s 1955 (minus the racism) is alive and well. But as far as fascinating reading goes, well, it’s not that fascinating.
So. As I made dinner last night I heard a squawk. Out the kitchen window I saw a pheasant fly into the yard, then another. They were so busy fighting with each other that they didn’t notice me getting closer, taking pictures. 
Look. Ballet.
Shortly after this their tussling moved them behind the cottonwood; then a car drove by and they flew off. Retreated to their corners.
I spend far too much time watching birds. It’s official.
See you later!
Black Spruce Hound 