Dealing in Peacocks

Pale January slumps onward. Something about this month always leaves me tired--it may be the post-holiday letdown, or the wan white light as the sun slowly remembers how to climb back up the sky away from the solstice. It's also the coldest part of the year, not that our record lows happen in January, but once it's cold, it stays cold longer, as I'm sure everybody has experienced in the past few weeks. And it may also be the dregs of the annual sinus infection; being under the weather will always color one's attitude toward life in general. Sigh.

But there is some color around, though it'll be awhile until the plants start waking. We have visiting birds once in a while, and some residents, though most of them are drab this time of year. Bluebirds, though, are like little flitting pieces of sky as they whiz over the roads. Yellow meadowlarks like to sit on fences and the tops of tall gateways adorning the suburban ranchlets over toward Edgewood. And our own birds still have lots of brilliant colors, particularly the little pheasants, the golden and Lady Amhurst, and of course the peacocks.

What an improbable barnyard bird! At our farm the pea people live in large covered pens, though, because they are strong flyers for short distances. But once out, they set down quickly, since there are no tall trees around (and in fact, no trees at all off the property), and they are unfortunately easily caught by the local coyotes or by our big dog Biff, who thinks he's a bird dog. The only time we've actually eaten a pea hen was one that Biff caught after she got out; we retrieved her just as she died and figured that we ought to roast her instead of wasting her. I have to say, she was truly delicious.

Somehow we seem to be turning into the local peacock dump, er, rescue site. There are an amazing number of feral peafowl in some areas such as parts of Espanola, and a few in the East Mountains (probably some in the South Valley of Albuquerque, too). And Wendy is always ready to trade for pea cocks, too. So we've doubled the number of birds here in the past few months. Last spring we only had two cocks, two hens, and then later in the summer the three babies hatched and are now sturdy youngsters. Then there is the new pen, with two pied cocks, one pied female, and Rain, the purple peacock. And in another pen, now we have two new India blue cocks, one of which came last night--this one was hanging around a house in the Edgewood area, and the homeowners really didn't want to keep it, exotic as it was. So that's, well, a bunch. People always ask us, "Wow. Aren't they loud?" Yes, they would be in a neighborhood situation. But to tell the truth, the pea fowl don't hold an auditory candle to the geese or the guineas, which are truly loud. This is not a quiet farm by any means.

And, look! Even just writing about the birds has lightened my day. It's time to go down and visit them, and then visit the greenhouse, which is the other part of the farm that keeps me going in the wintertime. I'm so lucky!