they have a little crown of tiny feathers like some awesome Marti Gras hat on their heads,
and they can make their tails into a fan of gaudy glory.
What more could I ask in a bird than this? How about that they also come in delightful white?
Done!
But then there's the dark side of peacocks. I don't know how many of you out there have actually met peacocks, but until I went to Europe a few summers ago, I had only dreamed of meeting one. That dream was torn apart when I found out that, like supermodels, peacocks are only pretty from far faaar away.
Up close those glorious fanned tails snap shut, the feathered bodies narrow into sleek bird-arrows, and they beging hunting unsuspecting and mistakenly delighted tourists like a pack of raptors, bighting at ankles and screaming in fury.
Even worse is when the peacocks hide in the woods and make a cry that sounds a lot like "Help! Help!" One can only assume that their purpose for these cries is that they have a relationship with a pack of nearby wolves (much like the ravens of Yellowstone) and they are pretending to be a lost child so that you'll foolishly leave the safety of the tourist trails and be lured away to a waiting wolf pack. Who knows what the peacocks get out of it, because I'm pretty sure they only bite people out of spite and not hunger.
So while they are beautiful and fabulous, I think that peacocks might just be the devil in bird form. And I suppose that would make pigeons their small smelly demonic minions!
6 comments:
Excellent point that I inever thought about.
One day I spent way too much time at the Hogle Zoo watching a male peacock try to attract a mate. He fanned his feathers, made strange noises, and vibrated those feathers, following around the females. They pointedly ignored him. Maybe peacocks never passed beyond adolescence--Freud could tell us.
Hah! You haven't seen anything until you watch peacocks bullying preschoolers for their lunches. Levi still talks about their vicious attack at our sad, sad zoo during a preschool field trip.
This further proves my "evil poultry" theory. We humans prefer to eat non-evil birds (chickens, emus, condors, and the like). You'll never see a peacock on my table or its egg in my omelet. Same goes for those snarky wrens and diabolical purple martins.
Evil birds are only good for hats.
Every year I go to Texas, and every year I get attacked by Grackles. Evil, evil birds.
Okay - those pigeons with devil's horns are terrifying!
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