The Peacock

How it became that female peacocks do not have the beautiful coloring that the male peacock have.

A long time ago, when the earth was young and voluptuous, and creatures of every variety peacefully roamed the land and filled the sea, there was no uncertainty or helplessness; only happiness filled the hearts of all. The land spread far and wide, and equality was a familiar. One distinct creature, however, mentally lived in higher status than any other created. The peacocks were the most glorious and most brilliant of Mother Nature�s creations. They lived in a world of beauty, they being the creators of such splendor. The youngest peacock, though, was an exception beyond any other. Her tail was adorned with a blue so royal and rich that even the heavens bowed down to her. The green and black eyelike spots that splashed the tip of every feather were like the sparkling depths of the ocean. He body shimmered like a dozen tiny emeralds floating atop a sea of green. She was beloved by all, especially by herself.
        One dreamlike morning, as the sun caressed the earth with his radiant arms, the ravishing peacock decided to sit among the ferns and flowers that outlined the stream. She looked like a flower herself within a flock of brilliant reds and golds that tinted the wild shrubbery. Hour upon hour the peacock sat, deliberating on the beauty Mother Nature had so gracefully endowed in her. No beauty had ever been granted to any other before. The peacock knew this, and prided over it every waking moment.
        When the day had but hardly begun, a stampede of animals rushed by with looks of fear and excitement. The lions with their manes flowing like wind, the monkeys swinging form tree to tree with their ridiculous grins in strange contortions, even the tiny insects were jumping about, catching hold of larger animals as they ran by. To her dismay, the peacock fell from her thoughts and reluctantly confronted a young lion racing by as to what was wrong. The frail cub, gasping for breath, quickly spoke of an approaching fire with ravage flames and sparking madness. The conflagration itself was an evil demon with mesmerizing eyes and a cruel tongue. With a quick intake of breath, and an anxious look toward to his comrade animals, the lion bounded off to catch up to the others, leaving the peacock in a cloud of upswept dirt and trampled foliage.
        The peacock though about what the lion had said. What could possible hurt me, the peacock wandered. Mother Nature had endowed gifts of beauty that were unimaginable by any other creature to the peacock, why would she create an evil force that would harm such an exceptional creature or any of her creatures for that matter? Looking once again at the retreating animals, she decided that the lion had been greatly mistaken.
        Once again admiring her reflection, the peacock fell back into her thoughts. The wind rustled her feathers and made then sway like a drifting dream. Her reflection drifted in and out as the drowsy wind passed over the crystal water. The sun beat heavily down upon the peacocks delicate back, spreading it�s slender arms around the feathered figure like a mother embracing her small child. As the afternoon passed on in the early evening, the beautiful peacock was once again disturbed. A ravaging fire with flames of red and orange, portraying the very depths of hell, had crept up on her while she had been daydreaming by the stream. It�s arms reached toward the peacock, trying to pull her into its belly. As the wind grew stronger so did the flames. It raced forward, trapping the peacock between it and the tranquil stream. At the last moment, the peacock was forced to retreat to the confines of the stream. As she jumped into the cool water, an eerie smell arose, but as the cold waters engulfed the frightened figure, it�s chill shocked the peacock into a sudden feeling of drowsiness. As the fire leapt up to peer into the glass of water, the peacock was swept toward the South bank, pulling the limp form carelessly toward safety.
        When the peacock washed up onto land, she fell into a deep sleep. She dreamed of beauty, hers and the world�s, and of a devastating fire. In the dream, the fire engulfed the beauty of everything. Mother Nature arose from the depths of the fire and spoke to the young peacock. �You do not deserve the beauty which I�ve bestowed on you.� Then a flash of red exploded, and the peacock abruptly awoke. With a sigh, she muttered a thankful relief that it had only been a dream. As she turned toward her glorious tail feathers, a horrid gasp arose from her throat. Her tail had become ash, burnt to nothing more than a horrid stub. Her beauty was gone.
        Forever after, female peacocks were denied the beauty once experienced, all because of the young peacock�s selfish pride.

Author's Note

This is just a cute story inspired by the creative works of Rudyard Kipling.

Reviews

[Emylie Rifley]

Quite a lovely concept! :) Well written with beautiful imagery. You feel like you're in a natural utopia, basking in the sun with outstanding serenity enveloping. Very well!