As a native New Yorker, “wildlife” to me means rats, pigeons, cockroaches, and maybe the occasional raccoon. One of the nice things about England has been getting to see some different animals…
These delight me. I don’t know what it is about their enormous, chubby bodies that always makes me smile. They’re quire prettily feathered for a pigeon, too. All my friends here think it’s weird that I find them so interesting, but then again they don’t know what it’s like to grow up surrounded by city pigeons. (And when my dad came to visit, he agreed that they are really big).
I’ve only seen pheasants a handful of times — once out behind Queen’s College, once at the Botanical Garden, maybe once or twice more — but they’ve made a strong impression on me. I think it’s probably because of that Roald Dahl story, plus the association with game hunting, which I think of as quintessentially ye old English. Continue reading