Peacock

That is the answer to today’s question: What is your favorite color?

It’s not quite blue, not exactly green, sometimes flashing glimpses of the entire spectrum. The shade recalls the changes in ocean on a winter day where clouds blow across the sun. I like the depth of color in the bird’s feathers, with their iridescent sheen. In Arcadia, Calif., not far from where I grew up, there was this neighborhood of lovely homes that bordered the Los Angeles Arboretum. The Arboretum was home to an uberflock of peafowl, and the birds overflowed into the upper-middle-class ‘hood surrounding it. You didn’t expect such exotic creatures to be lounging in such a mundane suburban setting. Now, across the Kern River from my current home you can sometimes hear the peacocks kept at the local juvenile detention facility, their weird cries sounding like the amplified echoes of manic cats.

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