Good grief. Who needs St David of Attenborough to do a wildlife programme when it's all going on in public here in rural parts. In the middle of my garden, there they were: at it. The pheasants are at the making of baby pheasants. There's me, minding my own business, washing dishes at the sink, looking out of the window, and it's going on in public. The wildlife has no shame, I tell you! As soon as *it* is done, the female pheasant got on with the important business of eating the seeds & nuts from the lawn. The male puffed up his chest feathers and let out some almighty squawks. I wonder where the eggs will be laid & if I'll see lots of pheasant chicks about the garden? That would be rather good.