Stately homes throughout the UK have been endeavouring to enliven their parks and gardens for hundreds of years with imported flora and fauna, not always successfully but at least providing a legacy that fascinated future generations. Indeed my first childhood visit to
Harewood House undoubtedly sparked an interest that is still very much with me today.

Although only introduced to be shot at or gawped at, pheasants are so much a part of the British countryside now that it's hard to imagine it without them. For over 900 years we've been releasing them, with the Common (or Ring-necked) variety still going strong due to continued breeding for the gun. But what about the more exotic - those that really take the breath away? Well unfortunately it's not all been good news.

Sadly this
Golden Pheasant was the last I saw at Bretton Park. As part of an ongoing but now abandoned release scheme (for one of the few breeds capable of maintaining a self-sustaining population), I believe this was the sole remaining individual surviving in the park in 2006 and, perhaps surprisingly, I still feel the loss. Not just because however often I glimpsed a bird like this it never failed to quicken the pulse, but more importantly, without my first Golden Pheasant over forty years ago - a larger, continually inspiring and forever fascinating world may never have opened up to me.