Wednesday Vignette: A colorful character

On Sunday morning, as I was cutting flowers, I was listening to the birds.  The hummingbirds were buzzing my Grevilleas while the finches were splashing in the fountain when they thought I was far enough away.  The hens down the street were squawking, their voices periodically punctuated by louder blasts from the resident rooster.  Interspersed between the rooster's calls, I also heard the tell-tale cry of what I quickly realized must be a peacock.  Peafowl have populated this peninsula for about 100 years.  Reportedly, the first of these exotic birds arrived as a gift to a local landowner in the 1920s.  (One convoluted origin story can be found here.)  They apparently liked the area.  A 2021 census conducted by my city, one of the four communities making up the peninsula, found 181 birds and I expect there are many more in the other three cities on the peninsula.

The peacock sounded as though he was some distance away so I was surprised when, an hour later, I looked out the kitchen window to see him picking blueberries from the pots on our back patio.

Caught in the act next to the blueberries

He didn't run away when I opened the back door and approached him with my camera - he strutted off as if signaling "there's nothing to see here"

They're not particularly afraid of people.  While there's an ordinance forbidding residents from feeding them, harming them is also prohibited; however, according to a social media site that didn't stop someone from shooting one of the birds last week.  But I expect he didn't know that.

Even if he wasn't afraid of me, I don't think he wanted to hang out with me either.  He eyed the dirt path adjacent to the Xylosma hedge seeking an escape route, looking right

and then left, evaluating his options.  He was utterly silent the entire time he was in my garden.  Their cries are considered one of the worst things about sharing space with them.  An article in The Guardian quoted a woman who said "(t)hey sound like babies being tortured," adding that their cries seemed to have been amplified as if by a microphone.

 This photo provides a good view of his fancy tail feathers.  Note that they're scruffy near the end.  The male birds molt in late summer at the end of the mating season but it's too early for that.  Although this bird was very large, in retrospect I concluded he was probably a juvenile male whose train is still developing.

 

Rather than take the dirt path left or right as I'd expected, he took flight, skimming over both the hedge shown in the photo above and the bay laurel hedge several feet beyond it that separates our back slope from the neighbor's property.  He landed in the neighbor's back garden.  These big bottom-heavy birds can fly but they don't gain great height and they don't go far.

Using a telephoto lens, I was able to get a few photos of him from the concrete block stairway that leads down my back slope even though the hedge partially obstructed my view.  This is the best of those photos.

He didn't remain in my neighbor's garden longer than 10 minutes before he took off a second time, this time flying further, landing on the other side of the canyon but still within the range of my telephoto lens.

This property in a neighborhood unconnected to ours has been undergoing renovation for years now.  Sold by the original owner last year after a long period of renovation, work is once again in process.  I'd noticed that the new owner seems to be addressing the landscape, as evidenced by what appears to be a newly planted tree next to the peacock.

I halfway expected to see the peacock again later that day or within the next couple of days but he hasn't returned.  The fact that I no longer put bird seed out except during the winter months probably makes my garden a less attractive stop than it was when I had bird seed out year-round.  My very first peacock sighting occurred in 2014 and it was brief.  The longest visit I've had from one of these birds occurred in May 2020.  That was followed by another visit by two peahens in June 2020, which was of greater concern because it suggested that they might be preparing to settle down here.  While I enjoy the birds' brief visits, I'd prefer they take up residence elsewhere - I've my fair share of critter issues as it is.  If you're not already tired of the competing views of peafowl in my part of the country, here's an article about a series of "peacock killings" and the efforts to protect the animals.

All material © 2012-2022 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party