Beware of Urban Wildlife

First, let me explain the setting. Nate and I were walking through a nearby neighborhood in inner-city Orlando. It was the type of area where the front-yard monster trucks towered the roofs of trailer homes, and faded confederate flags peered through dusty windows. I knew of the area because last December the residents were notorious for using 3 inflatables, 5 plastic Santas and 15 stands of multi-colored Christmas lights to decorate 40-square-feet of land. The colorful displays made a humorous place to run last winter.

In the midst of our walk, Nate spotted a peacock in someone's yard. Odd, I thought. Then I saw 5 more. Six peacocks in one yard! Stranger still. Upon inspecting the neighbor's yard, I saw eight peacocks. As we continued walking, the numbers increased. We counted at least 50 peacocks within the space of 2 football fields. Some were perched on mailboxes. Others on roofs, trucks, porch swings, and swimming pool covers. I begin having flashbacks of the Alfred Hitchcock movie "The Birds." Small children were in the yards, playing in the midst of the fowl smelling animals, and teenage boys were scaring them off the road with their motor motor bikes. Yet the adults seemed to act like the peacock infestation on this particular street was perfectly normal.

Feeling like we were in a nightmarish dream, we walked quickly until we found another (more friendly looking) neighbor a couple miles down the road. According to her, wild peacocks have lived on that street for years, flocking in certain yards and terrorizing the residents with horrific squawking sounds. It was cute, she said, when there were four of them. But now people keep feeding the birds, and the population won't stop growing.

Of all the sights I've seen in Orlando, this one struck me as the most bizarre. I never knew wild peacocks thrived in inner-city Orlando, far from any parks, grassy lots, or farms. The street is only a mile from our condo, so I hope they don't wander over our direction. If any do, they will be unlucky birds. I just might serve "peacock stew" at this year's Thanksgiving dinner.

--Ivy