I went to the garden to see whether life had started again. Melodramatic, yes, but everything felt dead this winter and I needed to see if all of that bullshit had worn itself out. When I was younger, winter was over when I'd see little yellow and purple crocuses sprouting around the trees in my front yard. Now in the city, I no longer have my crocuses, so I no longer know how to dress myself in March/April (if it is spring and flowers are a-blooming, I will dress according to that. I have no idea what 68 degrees F feels like, nor do I know how it's any different from 58F, 48F, or even 75F. I know that if it's below 20F, coats are good. And if it's above 85F, sleeves must be short. That's it).

Anway. I went to the garden for some self-reflecting and to really hammer it into my head that hooray! it is spring and healthy doses of sprightliness/jubilation must be adopted into my demeanor accordingly. I sat on a bench with the intention of finishing some readings I had to do, but I ended up reading a page and then packing it all a way, deciding that rubbing my feet on the cold ground and staring at the birds was a better option.

So there I was, Briar Rose with my little bird/squirrel friends, when a peacock strolled up. I had seen that guy many times before, and I'd even seen him as I was entering the garden that day (he was sitting on top of the wall), but I'd never given his existence much thought. I am a vegan, but I am not an animal lover. Some animals are cute, some are nice to touch, and some have beautiful colors, but I am just as happy experiencing animals by flipping through National Geographic as I am seeing them in real life.

So this beautiful tough-guy walked up to me and I took a few pictures. It felt strange that I was the only one in this blooming, beautiful space. No one else in the world could see the two of us; no one else knew what I was doing, what I was feeling, or what I was thinking. I felt as if no one else for miles knew just how ALIVE the world was, just how buzzing and bright everything was: I felt as if I was the only one in on the secret that, HEY, IT'S SPRING.

He stopped about a foot and a half away from my extended foot and stared at me. I had put down my camera at this point, both because I wanted to savor the moment, and also because I remember being told many times that peacocks are notoriously aggressive animals. If I am going to get killed by a peacock, I don't want to see myself getting mauled through a viewfinder. No, I'd at least like to know what's going on through my real eyes.
That was my reasoning.

He stopped about a foot away from me and stared. He came up closer to my side and I stared calmly, trying to determine if I felt any sort of connection between me and him. He then turned around and his long tail feathers fell on top the end of my sticking-out leg, running their way down and across my bare foot as he sauntered off.

It was a beautiful reminder that things besides masses of unsmiling, black-coat-wearing, fast-walking people live in NYC. Peacocks do, too.

A peacock in its natural city environment

-Camille