…this was not, in any possible way, and yet the masterful Yeats poem did come to mind as I watched this very consensual tryst between peacock and peahen. I think it was something about the eerie power of it, the almost mystical grace with which they engaged, that made their brief sex act seem less like a quickie in the hedges and more like the stuff of legend. Or it could have been incipient sunstroke on my part.
(How did it happen? You might ask. Well, the male had been strutting his stuff, as per usual, for a while—much to the excitement of the human visitors to the aviary, who are always offended when he doesn’t turn his eye-spotted tail to face them; they seem to be under the mistaken impression that he’s displaying for their benefit. Finally, when most of the people had left, a peahen strolled up and positioned herself purposefully in front of the male. She didn’t need to tell him twice.)
(How did it happen? You might ask. Well, the male had been strutting his stuff, as per usual, for a while—much to the excitement of the human visitors to the aviary, who are always offended when he doesn’t turn his eye-spotted tail to face them; they seem to be under the mistaken impression that he’s displaying for their benefit. Finally, when most of the people had left, a peahen strolled up and positioned herself purposefully in front of the male. She didn’t need to tell him twice.)
1 comment:
Love is in the air! Our veiled chameleons mated recently. Fun post!
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