It’s a sculpture, surely it’s a sculpture?
Brilliantly white peacocks don’t actually exist… apart from maybe in places like Narnia.
It stands stock still, not a movement nor a flutter of its delicate white feathers.
Definitely a sculpture.
I step closer. Nothing. It is made from alabaster. A clever whimsical sculpture amidst the leafy terraces of an immaculate Italian garden.
I start to turn away… and it blinks.
‘Ha, fooled you’ its arrogant expression mocks.
Then, just to convince me it really is flesh, blood and feathers, it slowly unravels a treasure. In seconds a huge, intricate white fan frames the snow peacock’s proud face.
I’m not sure I have ever seen a creature so spell-bindingly beautiful. It could have stepped straight from the pages of a fairy tale.
Now I’m the one standing still; as if petrified by an Ice Queen’s magic.