After I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago, I sort of figured I’d peaked with the whole shocking-animal-experiences part of living at the Liberty House. Like, “Ha ha Universe, we got the joke here, let’s move on now.”
Except the Universe was all, “Girl… you think the best I’ve got is a couple of mice and bat?”
And then Friday evening I looked out into the back field and spotted a doe fairly close to the big barn, acting oddly. Pretty soon I realized why…
That’s mama and her fawn. Which wasn’t exactly shocking, but still pretty cool to see on my property.
Sunday, however, was a different story. Sunday morning I woke up a little bleary-eyed and walked into the kitchen and the cat, instead of sitting with his nose pressed up against the doors to the patio like he usually does, was sitting about five feet away from them looking quizzically at me. When I bent down to pet him the movement of a large something on my patio caught my eye, and when I turned my head…
That is an EFFING. PEACOCK. ON. MY. PORCH.
Here’s how I handled the situation: Froze.
About 45 seconds later I remembered to breathe, and then I immediately stood up and flattened myself against the kitchen wall so it couldn’t see me. Because I guess some part of my brain confused the powers of a peacock with the powers of medusa and I was afraid if it spotted me I’d turn to stone? I have no idea.
Here are the thoughts going through my head at this moment in time:
- Way too many glasses of sangria last night.
- Perhaps I’m having a seizure.
- Everything would probably make more sense right now if I was wearing pants.
- Where the hell is my camera?
Then I dashed back into my bedroom and had a brief internal debate about which was more important, pants or camera. (Camera, duh.) But the shot above was really the best picture I got with my phone before he spotted me and took off into the side field.
Needless to say, I could not have been more shocked if a little green man in a space suit had a set of bongo drums on my patio and was playing me a song.
I can’t even… I mean… I don’t even really know what to say about this. As far as I know peacocks aren’t even native to the States, much less Middle of Nowhere, Michigan. The nearest thing that could be considered a “zoo” is at least fifty miles away. So the best explanation I have for his sudden appearance on my porch, is a.) the Universe is just straight up screwing with me, and b.) I bought the most awesome house and property ever.
I imagine it’s a little bit of both, and frankly, I can’t wait to see what happens next.