giggie larue
when peacocks come a'callin
sitting at the table playing cards one dusk, a startling cry from the yard, as i had never heard before - like the 100-fold amplification of a honking goose combined with perhaps (what i imagined as) a european town alarm, alerting all villagers of something wicked this way come!
there at the door, a peacock.
long story short, apparently there are gaggles of them wild in these foothills, some "belonging" to folks, many just roaming. (i even traveled a few times to talk to those who have or know peacocks and their ways, gathering a few amazing shed feathers along the way.)
couldn't locate anyone claiming bob, and besides, have you ever tried to capture a peacock?
so we put out more seed than usual and most days at dawn and dusk bob shows up to say hey to my guy - who is now his bff - and to greet our fearless black cat bug at the door.
every day i anxiously look for him, fearing he be taken by a local mtn. lion, coyote, bear, or even a bold (and foolish) hawk. or hit by a speeding car rounding the blind curve in front of our house. i get nauseous thinking of finding his sweet body mangled, half-dead. how would you help a peacock either recover or die?
it's another maddening occasion to manage the crazy juxtaposition of life's beauty and chaos, the helplessness in the face of such tenuous joy ...
when peacocks come a'callin
sitting at the table playing cards one dusk, a startling cry from the yard, as i had never heard before - like the 100-fold amplification of a honking goose combined with perhaps (what i imagined as) a european town alarm, alerting all villagers of something wicked this way come!
there at the door, a peacock.
long story short, apparently there are gaggles of them wild in these foothills, some "belonging" to folks, many just roaming. (i even traveled a few times to talk to those who have or know peacocks and their ways, gathering a few amazing shed feathers along the way.)
couldn't locate anyone claiming bob, and besides, have you ever tried to capture a peacock?
so we put out more seed than usual and most days at dawn and dusk bob shows up to say hey to my guy - who is now his bff - and to greet our fearless black cat bug at the door.
every day i anxiously look for him, fearing he be taken by a local mtn. lion, coyote, bear, or even a bold (and foolish) hawk. or hit by a speeding car rounding the blind curve in front of our house. i get nauseous thinking of finding his sweet body mangled, half-dead. how would you help a peacock either recover or die?
it's another maddening occasion to manage the crazy juxtaposition of life's beauty and chaos, the helplessness in the face of such tenuous joy ...