Peacocks

September 2, 2006 was a sad day for my husband Peter and me. Our grandchildren from Italy, Sofia and James, and their parents, Celia (our daughter) and Vittorio, boarded their plane to return to Milano, Italy, where they live. Their home is a third story apartment in a friendly neighborhood where all of the shop keepers know them by name. Parks and green space in Milano are rare, and nothing like the USA, so they all especially love coming here. While Sofia and James were here, we did all of the things that the neighborhood American kids do during the summer. We started with the Orange Park Acres Fourth of July parade! Because of this parade, the kids think a parade, any parade means candy will be thrown to them. We went swimming in our pool, and did boogie boarding at the beach. We were able to arrange a wonderful trip to Disneyland and also to Lego Land—two amusements parks that we perhaps take for granted because they are so close by, but are such a special treat for Sofia and James. We went to the mountains in the Sierras, and Peter took all of our grand kids camping, sleeping out in the open under the stars, near a stream, fishing (nothing caught, but wonderful all the same), roasting marshmallows and throwing pine cones in the fire. We were so blessed with such a wonderful and busy summer, with so much to do and so much to see. Perhaps though, the thing that will remain most in the thoughts of Sofia and James about this summer are the early morning trips out to the Lewis Drive and Kimbark area to look for peacocks.

We went out to look for the peacocks one morning and it seemed to evolve into a tradition. Every morning James who would be wide awake before seven in the morning would ask me “Are we going to see the peacocks?” I always hated to say “no, and in the last two weeks that they were here, we were out walking, about nine out of fourteen days. On one of the first days we didn’t see the peacocks, I suggested they look for feathers. On the little private drive of Lewis I would drive very slowly with the windows down, and James in particular could spot a feather as small as one or two inches mixed in with the leaves. When he found his first feather with an eye in it, he went about for an entire day saying, “Can you believe it, Can you believe it? I am the luckiest boy in the whole world. I am the luckiest boy in the whole world!”

Every day we would come home with a story about the peacocks and feathers. The feathers were of all types: tiny all white fluffy feathers (the kind used for down pillows), tan and deep brown fluffy feathers, and also flat speckled feathers, tiny dark feathers capped with brilliant blue tops, and one with a fluorescent green top, and then of course the long tail feathers themselves. Most of the tail feathers with eyes were about four feet, but one was almost as tall as I am—about 5’6”. We made arrangements of the smaller feathers, and placed them like bouquets of flowers on the table. The long ones were shown to everyone, and Sofia one day poked a dozen or so in the waistband of her pants and pranced around like a peacock.

Over a period of two weeks, we met most of the residents of this area. We stopped and chatted, and several of the neighbors invited us to see and feed the peacocks on their property. A huge thank you to all of you neighbors for your kindness to me and Sofia and James. We have enjoyed meeting each person, chatting, meeting your dogs, and one very special pet bird, helping you feed the peacocks, and swinging on the long rope swing. Next year ……… I’m sure we’ll be back again.