Strutting his stuff

We had just finished Sunday lunch in the Potting Shed, a tiny bistro attached to the much grander Roman Camp hotel in Callander when a chance remark from M led us to the peacocks.
 
They were locked up at the back of the gardens. Well, I found them and I saw why. It’s the mating season and this aggressive peacock was isolated from the rest. That didn’t stop him showing off his tail feathers and making repeated lunges at his caged feathered friends.