A peachick grows up in Fort Lauderdale

Lord Byron briefly holds court atop our wooden table.

He's now regularly called "Lord Byron" by Bonnie and I but I don't think any neighbors know that's our name for the blue peachick. He's a big, beautiful creature now, and independent of his mother (which seems to suit her fine).

Unlike his mother, Lord Byron doesn't seem to attach any particular importance to our yard and is more often seen elsewhere. He likes to hang with the crowd of Muscovy ducks when they gather on Victoria Park Road but later you might see him sitting regally atop a roof.

This morning, however, he stopped by and hopped up on the birdbath in our backyard. He's not thirsty; just looking around. His mother never did this.

But, later, he rested briefly on the wooden table on the deck, just as she used to do (but hasn't lately). I managed to get this one photo, but he didn't stay long and he left no feathers.

Video shows that peacocks are very alert

Notice the "flighty" awareness of the blue peachick as it eats a handful of seeds presented at the back door of our Poinsettia Heights house.

The bird seems to respond to the least noise, including a shout from down the block and the whispered voices of my daughter and her boyfriend as she shot this video.

Even the movement of the white, mother peahen in the background causes the peachick to jump.

Notice, too, the almost soundless "peep" the bird makes itself. We've noticed before how this sound is almost completely directionless; hard to tell where it's coming from, something that no doubt aids peahens in finding their chicks but does little to direct predators to the target.

I've taken to calling this bird Blue Bird, now that there is only one blue peachick left alive to name. My wife, Bonnie, is trying to push for the far grander name "Lord Byron."

Thing is, everyone on the block will have their own name for the bird; Blue Bird at least will eliminate any doubt which bird we mean when we discuss the peacocks with our neighbors!

Drama in the wild kingdom as a big bird visits

Peacocks watch as a big visitor takes to the air between them.
(Photo by Bonnie Gross)

The two peacocks in the neighborhood were interested to see a big white bird on the lawn in front of a house on Northeast 21st Street, and approached to check it out.

The big white bird — a great egret, I presume — wasn't looking for company but it had its eye on prey (a lizard?) in the those bushes and wasn't going to flee until it got it.

The blue peachick eventually started doing its silly raised-feather salute but Ms. Bird stayed calm as she edged closer. Perhaps, with its long neck, she thought it might be another white peahen?

Certainly the peacocks were showing much more interest in this bird than they do in the old-hat Muscovy ducks in the neighborhood.

Ultimately the big bird got its meal and immediately took off. That's when Bonnie clicked the shutter and nailed this great photo.

Ms. Bird took the egret's take off calmly but blue bird went all haywire, running across the road as if to chase the big bird... on foot. Ms. Bird chased her chick with that "there the kid goes again" concern every parent would recognize.

The big bird soared past one more time as if to rub in its superior flying skills and soared off over the rooftops.

A sad, sudden end for one peachick

One of the peachicks; it was never easy to tell them apart.

Ms. Bird's peachicks gained size fast, which we assumed gave them protection from predators. Despite their size, they remained chicks in behavior. While Ms. Bird was constantly on alert, scanning her surroundings, the chicks would become preoccupied with whatever they were doing.

This would then result in sudden panic when any threat appeared, or even if their mother had moved to be temporarily out of sight. The chicks would startle, behaving "like chickens with their heads cut off."

This seems to have caused the death of one of the chicks the late afternoon of Jan. 2, 2015.

I was in the house when I heard persistent and obviously alarmed crowing from Ms. Bird. I got up to investigate, but turned back and grabbed my camera, thinking I might get a shot of this occasional behavior.

The last photo I have of the three birds together.
Peachicks are easily as big as Ms. Bird!

On the front sidewalk I encountered a neighbor, John, walking his own large dog on a leash. As we met, a large brown dog I didn't recognize walked out of the side yard of my house toward John.

"Do you know this beast?" I asked John, ironically, wondering why it would be on the loose. He said he knew the dog from the neighborhood, and called it by name, indicating he would take charge of it.

"THAT bird," he said, nodding to my side yard, "flew all the way up and hit the high tension power line. I think he may have been shocked."

I looked down the side yard and spotted one of the peachicks lying on its side, on the ground. Ms. Bird was above it, on the roof line of the neighboring house, continuing to crow loudly.

At this moment I must have taken a photo of the scene, although I don't remember doing so. I was shocked later to find a blurry photo on the camera. Ms. Bird, being all white, may be invisible in the washed out area above the roof, or perhaps had moved just out of sight. She never stopped crowing loudly.

The photo I don't remember taking. Crumpled bird barely visible.

What I do remember doing is approaching the injured bird and taking it into my arms — it made only one off-center scrape along the ground trying to escape me and then did not resist. It looked at me. It was still alive but I felt no heartbeat.

I asked John to summon Bonnie. He again described the bird flying into the power line that runs along the sidewalk, right by the power pole, and then plummeting straight down. My guess is that the bird was startled by the big dog and flew into the spider web of power lines that meet at the pole.

Perhaps it was shocked, or perhaps the impact with wires and fall proved fatal (I would subsequently find a large feather and lots of blue/white peachick fluff directly under the pole). John told me the fallen bird had gotten up the length of the side yard on its own speed, fleeing the big dog.

The dog may have been just curious and may never have touched the bird for all I know.

The peachick died before we could get it to the Wildlife Care Center. We left the body with them.

A neighbor pointed out that it might have been better to bury the bird at home, with Ms. Bird watching. It might have prevented what we saw the next day: Ms. Bird and the remaining chick seemingly frantically searching.

The deceased chick had been the larger of the two and had been showing signs of being dominant, even pecking at Ms. Bird and its sibling to establish who would eat first.

"Oh, that was her favorite," another neighbor said when told of the death. How much we read into these birds our own emotions! I was just glad that I got to hold the chick at the end and grateful that humans have arms that can enfold other creatures. Perhaps it matters to them. It certainly did to me.

Chicks growing in size — and wisdom?

Side-by-side in apparent harmony.

In the month since my last post the two peachicks have gained considerable size but they continue to shadow Ms. Bird (sometimes she seems to be following them).

We suspect that size is important to safety, as there is a hawk in the neighborhood. Recently Ms. Bird honked frantically, and noisily flew to a rooftop, apparently upset that the hawk had swooped past. I saw the hawk but of course there was nothing I could do to help but clap my hands fast and loud to shoo it off.

With the hawk apparently out of sight Ms. Bird hopped down from the roof and began looking for her chicks, who had taken shelter under a bush. With her clucking and the chicks peeping the little family eventually homed in on one another.

Days later we saw the hawk take a mourning dove (a bird the size of a pigeon). It had no difficulty whatsoever in carrying off its prize.

It's a dangerous world out there.

Ms. Bird's two chicks show some personality

The chicks seem more aware and stronger every day.

Still unnamed, at least by us, Ms. Bird's two chicks seem to be growing larger and stronger and more aware by the day. It is not hard to imagine that they might soon be roosting in trees.

The little family trio is inseparable for the moment. The chicks love watching their mother, who can not tear her eyes away from her young.

The chicks seem to mimic her moves, fanning their little fans when she does and watching what she eats for clues to what might be tasty.

Although we haven't named the chicks, Bonnie swears that one is larger and stronger and therefore possibly a male. I say it's too soon to tell anything.

Also, there is so much "me too, me too!" scurrying constantly going on that I can't imagine telling them apart at this point. It's hard to even focus on one or the other. Most photos are blurred by their constant motion.

Watching mom and being watched are big activities.

There is no more doting mother than Ms. Bird.

Ms. Bird has two chicks

Ms. Bird and her two chicks posing on the picnic table benches.

"She's here! She has chicks! Get a camera!" I whispered/shouted to Bonnie just after stepping out the door into the front yard Monday morning.

There, looking tentative but proud was Ms. Bird, shepherding two active and fluffy chicks through the perennial peanut ground cover in our front lawn.

It was as though she had brought them by to show them off. Bonnie struggled to get pictures (the chicks wouldn't hold still and nearly disappeared as they struggled through the ground cover).

But by today they were ready for their close-up. The chicks followed Ms. Bird and hopped up onto the back deck. Here they could be photographed through the windows.

To our surprise the chicks proved capable of hop/flying onto the wooden picnic table benches and one hopped up onto a birdbath. Once that chick was on the birdbath it was at Ms. Bird's eye level.

She took the opportunity to examine her chick thoroughly, from point-blank range. She admired and admired the young one.

Ms. Bird can not get enough of her chicks.

It's no surprise. She has been alone for so long now and here, at last, is one of her own kind and its all hers. How she must adore them.

We haven't bestowed names on the chicks. These are wild birds and there are many dangers out there. We don't want to get too attached.

But it is hard not to admire the care Ms. Bird lavishes on her little ones. She will do all she can to keep them safe.