I am walking up my beloved stairway to Nocelle as sweat slowly crawls down my back and unimportant thoughts chase each other through my head. Suddenly I look up and notice standing just in front of me, dressed in an array of beautiful colors a pheasant. He seems rather bemused at the encounter, and we both stop to stare at each other.
Not knowing what to do I slowly take a few shy steps towards him and as I do he quickly scrambles away. A pheasant on the Amalfi Coast I ask myself, having lived here for 15 years and never seen one before.
Upon returning to Positano I enquire with a good friend who has a passion for hunting, and to my dismay he nonchalantly tells me The Amalfi Coast if full of them. I have always associated pheasants with the verdant fields of England, and not these barren hills and dramatic coast, inhabited only by a breed of voracious seagulls.
To make matters worse my friend tells me that the pheasants in this area are part of a repopulation program of the government, and as soon as they are released they all fly towards the sea thinking it is an endless field, only to discover to their dismay that although flat and very large a field it is not, rather a body of cold unwelcoming water. Thus dejected sad and lonely they end up perched on hills probably dreaming of the green fields they were made to live in.