Happy Hunting ?

Happy Hunting

The two pheasants sit peacefully on the old Cotswold stone Church wall.
Long tail, blue green head with a huge red eye and a thousand shades of brown on their body.
They have come into town to avoid the hullabaloo 
Their children play in the ditch and the hedge
Scurrying this way and that, always looking pursued.

Meanwhile in their field a line of silver Range Rovers parked
Grey suited men with trousers tucked into long socks with fussing hounds and guns folded over their arms
They have several brace of birds held by a loyal beater.
And when the pheasants return from their outing they will look for their father and mother and find them gone.

As the traces of swirling fog begin to knit a pattern and evening gathers early and dark.
The birds settle gentle into the nests.
As the men speed back to their cities in their gas guzzling silver machines.
The beaters feed the Spaniels and settle down to tea in cottages along the main street of village the birds visited earlier in the day .