Gender Phluid.

                                                                                             

                                                                                                                                                             One of the Pheasants is Woke. Each year, up to a dozen pheasants wander round the garden, hoovering up the spillage from the feeders and generally milling about hiding from the local sportsmen. There's usually one or two males and a loose harem of females, and come the Spring the males start making noises and approach the females, plumage contorted in the stilted ceremony that shows off the iridescent Pre-Raphaelite patterns of maroon, red gold and deep pacific blue.  

But a few weeks ago, I noticed that one male was not quite the regal chevalier his garden mate had turned out to be. My first thought was that he was a young bird that hadn't fully moulted, but over a few days inspection - a different idea has emerged. 

It's long past the date where young birds have finished their moult into adult plumage, and yet this one bird still has not attained the greenish blue head with bold scarlet wattles and shining ear tufts. Its scapulars and mantle are still faded umber and black, and its orange underparts lack the glossy black diamonds and drops that give a male Pheasant its characteristic metallic feel. And it's small. Eventually I managed to see it side by side with one of the females - and apart from the longer tail, they were more or less the same size.

                                                                                                                                             

In close up, it was obvious the plumage  had both male and female features, with many feathers being an intermediate pattern. The bird has not appeared interested in the other females - no displaying or even stalking, and interestingly, the other - or should I say only male has attempted to court this bird a couple of times, slowly following it across the grass and adopting the hunchbacked, droop flanked, head bowing posture reminiscent of a Japanese kabuki actor sidling across the stage.

Side by side with the obvious male, this other bird is much smaller, and with all the other evidence taken into consideration, I guess it must be a female. I've never seen this genetic cross-dressing in Pheasants before - and I've seen a lot of pheasants over the years. But this is the 21st century after all - so deal with it.