Every afternoon the peahens come out with the half-dozen fuzzy pea-babies. Browns and greys still, there’s no telling which will be hens and which will be cocks.
They have fluffy, downy feathers, and I am constantly tempted to pick them up one at a time and play the “whoozha whoozha whoozha” game I used to do with Stratos (the lovebird I had before I had cats). Of course, I know that the instant I touch one of these precious babies, 3-4 peahens and 2-3 peacocks will be all over me, pecking and scratching to protect their young. And the poor little baby will then be abandoned by the flock (or whatever you call a bunch of peafowl). Since I have neither the time, nor the knowledge required to bring up a pea-baby, I will content myself with watching them on their afternoon stroll and with imaging that I am fluffing their downy feathers and giggling.
I sometimes leave the gate open while I am here, to see if they will wander into yard. It will be great once my move is complete and the cats are here with me. I have a sliding glass door with a screen (that needs to be replaced) that they can sit at and watch them like they used to do at the Sea Spray townhouse.
I haven’t decided what to name this new place. There are lots of trees (Yay, I have trees again!), and the community is named Ocean Woods, so I may call it The Woods. Yeah, that sounds nice. Or Sylvan Home. Nah... The Woods.
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