Earlier in the winter, I noticed we had some visitors. Five beautiful male pheasants were meandering around our property. With a colorful, intricate plumage, these birds intrigue me. Surviving the pheasant hunting season, they seem to have no definite home nor means to feed themselves.
“Do you think they’ll be OK?” I asked my husband one day.
I wasn’t certain, and if we could do anything about it, I’d sure feel better.