For ages there has been a mound of soil and stones (and originally nettles and brambles) in a heap at the side of the garden. This is loved by the male partridge and pheasant both of whom like to stand atop it to broadcast loudly to anyone who'll listen ... however it's no more, Dave and I levelled the area which looks much nicer but the pheasant doesn't seem to agree and after inspecting our handiwork sat hunched in the corner looking out disapprovingly.
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