Duck, grouse

The spouse and I set out for a nice stroll across the moors to Loch Ascog yesterday. It was the Glorious Twelfth, so the Bute grouse population were keeping their heads down to avoid having them blasted off with shotguns. We were rather surprised then, given the risk to bird life and limb, to see an iridescent blue peacock head pop up defiantly from a ditch at the edge of a farm track as we walked by.

Once he had established that we were not in possession of firearms and posh accents, the cheeky chappie proceeded to strut his stuff very attractively in front of us for the next 200 yards, before turning off for his wee wooden house at the side of the track. As a reward for our good behaviour, he gave us a feather.

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