Recently, fellow Richmond blogger PSYL described an encounter with an amorous male pheasant (scroll down past the herons) at the Terra Nova Community Garden. He was somewhat alarmed, but my reaction? Hurt!
I visit that garden at least once a week. Why hasn't the pheasant ever made a pass at me?
I decided to give him another chance. I parked my bike in the garden and watched and waited. I heard him call. I strained my eyes. Eventually I saw motion, something red, between two of the farthest beds. I smoothed my hair and casually strolled in that direction, one hand on my hip, the other twirling my invisible parasol.