jmgoyder

King is our only adult peacock (not counting Queenie, his wife, who is a peahen) and, as some of you may recall, he moulted his magnificent tail feathers some time ago and is only now gradually growing them back. Until that happens, he prefers me to just take head shots. This photo is of him looking at himself longingly in the back veranda window reflection, wondering when he will get those feathers back!

And the following photo is of him flaunting himself (a few months ago) in a winning competition with our adolescent white peacock.

Unfortunately for King, the white peacock’s tail feathers are growing faster (perhaps because these will be his first?) This is him now.

I can’t wait to take a photo of this guy doing his display thing! It won’t be long….

When the birds alter the position of their wings and feathers

little whispers of breeze flit across my nightmares and I wake up

to see a gathering outside the window

at dawn,

waiting for the stale bread I forgot to collect yesterday

Their clicks of disapproval dissolve when I explain that I will get some bread later in the day

They peck gently at my hands which I open out into little tables,

then they unfold their tail feathers and practise their flirting in front of each other,

in front of the window,

in front of me,

looking for approval.

Then, whispering off into their day, they lead me to where the best sunshine is,

and I follow them.

Finally, in our second month of Autumn, it is raining properly. Yeeha – the paddocks are green, we don’t have to water the potplants, the birds are in heaven and we might be able to light our incinerators!

This morning, the rooftop was alive with scrambling peafowl for a better view of the clouds. Eventually they flew onto the washhouse roof. It’s the females who are the best weather forecasters….

Young peahen: Do you think rain is coming, Mummy? 

Queenie: It certainly is, darling, and we will have to be very quick to get the first worms before those dreadful geese do. 

Well, it’s pouring down with rain now so I hope they are all happy – me, I have to wade through puddles to put the gang away and feed the Emerys their evening cabbage.

I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the rain.