They fed for a bit and flew away. One wonders what safe haven they find in the middle of the winter's storm. The pheasants have yet to appear. No doubt they are ensconced in brush tangles within the woods. I have every hope that they too will appear.
Hunger is a demanding task master.
Late this afternoon the pheasants showed up in force in the backyard. For about an hour there were somewhere between thirty and fifty of them feeding in the patches that weren't drifted in. The remnants of a garden row still poked above the snow and pheasants settled down to pluck what little was still offered. There were pheasants all in a row, like dark stones set in a decorative garden border. Afternoon wore on and they drifted back to their havens in a grove of trees.