Sounds like an HK martial arts flick, doesn’t it? Except, while there are real crane styles, what would pheasant gongfu look like? You strut about obnoxiously, inviting everyone to admire how beautiful you are, then flee squawking frantically at the first sign of danger?
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Not pictured: martial arts master.
Emma and I went for a walk on Bear’s Ditch this afternoon. Very pretty, with clear blue skies. Also nasty, with that icy wind that cuts through your meat like razors, and rings your bones like bells.
As we walked along the fence that forms the south boundary of the RGNC preserve I saw a big bird on the path in front of us. My first thought was, Jesus, it’s a giant roadrunner! Run away! Because what you call a giant roadrunner is Deinonychus.
But it wasn’t. It was a cock pheasant in bright and shiny new plumage. (I’ll wait while you enjoy your Beavis & Butt-Head moment: Heh. Heh-heh. He said cock.)
The big birds don’t usually stray across the fence, which they seem to regard as a safety barrier: the cranes and Canadas, as usual, paid us no mind when we walked past not twenty feet away. The pheasant, naturally, freaked the moment it became aware of us. It immediately flew over the fence. Its trajectory carried it right over the heads of four or five cranes.
They spread those huge wings, and the instant that wind hit them, it kited them instantly up a dozen feet in the air, ready to fly to safety. Then they noticed what had overflown them. And they obviously said to themselves, Oh. It’s just a pheasant; fuck it. And landed and went right back to browsing in the stubble as if nothing had happened.
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