Looking out in the garden this morning, I saw a cock pheasant making advances to one of his hens. He fluffed his feathers up so he looked twice as big, and slowly circled her, his head turned in and his inner wing outstretched gracefully towards the ground.

She just carried on pecking for grain - women, eh?

... to paraphrase Robert Browning.

The first in an occasional series of notes about my life in East Devon. Not a stream of (semi)consciousness from the bedroom of a bored teenager, but observations on the natural world: a serene break from my rants against stuff in eye for information!

So: today. One of those perfect Autumn days with warm sunshine and blue skies full of puffy cumulus. It could almost be summer - but...

Blackberries, blue sloes, yellowing leaves, honeysuckle and bryony berries hanging like ruby beads in the hedgerows; and the robin's song in the afternoon sunshine.

And yesterday, a large congregation of swallows over our field, gathering ready for their journey back to Africa. After dark, the practice hooting of young tawny owls, working out how to do it properly ready for the long winter nights.