1st November - Free Roaming Pheasants

Dried Mint

The Mint has dried completely and thanks to the rapid speed of its dehydration, maintained a fresh colour and aroma. In the past I have made the mistake of drying herbs too slowly with insufficient or intermittent heat, with the result of browning leaves and a musty smell.

Despite the clear skies last night when I went to put the dog in her run, the morning was grey and drizzly once more. During my rounds I was reminded once again of those ' subtle changes ' which I spoke about before - the chestnuts and birch about the garden have been quietly sloughing their leaves and are suddenly two thirds of the way to arboreal nudity! Heavy winds will always bring autumn colours to a swift conclusion, but so far it has been sufficiently calm for every tree to ripen fully and leaf drop at its own pace. Wild cherries are more vibrant than I have ever known and driving this morning I was awestruck by a wooded field boundary aglow with crimson foliage.

Every year fifty or so pheasants are released in my parent’s wood, a small oak stand surrounded by pasture. H’s shoot is unlike any other you're likely to encounter, for as well as my parent’s wood there are a dozen different locations which, on shoot days we visit in rotation before heading back to the primary venue of H’s farm. On most of these ' atlas ' drives the pheasants we encounter are wanderers drawn in by a feeder or two and for that reason there can never be the guarantee of finding birds (though we usually do and often in large numbers). Sadly there is also no guarantee that birds will be found in square wood (my parent,s wood) and although it has always been accepted with good humour and leg pulling, it can feel a little embarrassing. The problem is that square wood is an island, surrounded by pastures, hedges, gardens and further afield arable land, woods and even orchards, all habitats that our small band of pheasants enjoy frequenting. The result is that every morning our pheasants fly off the roost, have a hearty breakfast ( kindly laid on by ourselves), then head out for a day's rambling completely oblivious to the troops of guns and beaters which appear on occasion. It was the gift of an electric feeder last Christmas which gave me an idea to try and solve this conundrum. Pheasants have a love of maize above almost anything (and certainly above the wheat which is provided by our traditional feeders), so my plan is to automatically spin out a quantity of the stuff every morning at 10 AM. Hopefully if the pheasants get a taste for it they will congregate at that time, keen not to miss the treat and with luck, this will coincide with our arrival on shoot days. Em and I put up the feeder today and so it's unlikely to have any effect on the pheasants' pattern by the first proper shoot on Saturday, but after that I will observe with interest. As I grappled with the simple instructions explaining how to set the timer (before Em calmly took over) the sun shone strongly through the oaks, and out in the field hundreds of ladybirds could be seen, milling and buzzing about, presumably taking a last opportunity to seek winter quarters.