Meeting the Neighbors

Not Phillip.  Or Phoebe.  But probably a distant cousin?

Picture credit

I'm starting to feel very guilty.

One day last summer, as we were visiting our new lot before excavation began, we startled a pheasant out of the overgrown weeds.  It was very exciting for the kids, and, well, for me, too.  Pheasants are gorgeous creatures, and being that close to one was fun.  Our soon-to-be-new neighbors told us a pheasant pair had built a nest on our lot, and we joked about how it was good that we hadn't started work until late in the summer, after the baby pheasants were mostly ready.

When we moved in, in early January, the backyard was covered with ice and snow.  We found daily evidence of deer using our yard as a pass-through to get to the park, and beyond the park, the pastures and orchards.  Although we never saw the deer actually in our yard (we saw them around the neighborhood plenty of times), the kids were thrilled at the tracks and deer poop in the mud.

Now the weather is warming, and the deer seem to have moved up into the foothills and mountains to the east of us.  And the pheasant--and his wife--are back.

We first saw Mr. Phillip Pheasant at the park, lurking by the fence line.  Then in the empty lot across the street.  Then in our backyard, scoping things out.  Yesterday morning, Mrs. Pheasant (Phoebe to her friends) was hanging out on our front porch.

There is a pile of branches and sticks in our backyard, from three very old and diseased apple trees on the lot.  This pile is the only cover in our yard.  Today Gee and I were exploring over in that area, looking for Phoebe (who had flown past us in the park on the way home from school), and turned around to discover that we were less than two feet away from Phillip, sitting on the ground.  At my gasp, he took off in flight, right in front of us.

I get the feeling they are confused and perhaps a little distressed about the changes in the yard.  I can't help but feel a little guilty about it, too.  And I'm going to take care of that pile of branches and leaves and trees tomorrow and Saturday, just so they don't lay their eggs there.  I mean, I don't mind, but we're going to be getting rid of the pile this summer anyway, and I don't want to have to disturb a nest or have to leave the branches there until fall.

I'm sorry, Phillip and Phoebe.  But there is a perfectly lovely empty lot across the street, you know.  Maybe that will work out for you?