I can’t believe I’m going to say this but…
I think I want peacocks.
Fucking peacock; showy, useless, loud, stuck-up.
Frivolity at it’s best.
I had a friend in elementary school – Jenny O’Brien – who lived in a dark and cavernous stone mansion in the woods on a winding road in the hills.
Jenny’s house was not only enormous and intimidating, it was also somewhat creepy and haunted.
Lots of ghost stories, lots of terrified little girls, lots of levitation games.
Back stairwells and secret passages in which to get lost.
Her parents had a hand painted human skull on the coffee table in the living room.
But the most frightening part of the entire place was the background screeching that went on even in the middle of the night…
So their “song” is not only loud and grating, it has undertones of danger for me and my feeble mind.
I’ll Never Have Peacocks!
I’ve said this bunches of times.
But, I am a lover of birds.
I am a lover of the natural world.
I am a lover of the astounding beauty that Nature produces.
And suddenly, I’m looking at peacocks as the eighth natural wonder of the world and I want some of that iridescent blue running around my house.
There’s a stop sign near my house – like 2 miles away.
When I stop there in the afternoons on my way home, two males and a handful of females are often wandering around the intersection – waiting for me, I like to presume.
I’ve been known to sit at that intersection for 15 minutes, just taking in every detail of these glorious birds’ plumage – they are truly breathtaking.
And when the males spread out those tails and show off – oh hold me back!
I will probably do nothing about this newest whim, but…you just never know.