Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, and for that, there’s ample proof.

Peafowl roamed the grounds of the vast retreat we visited on a weekend.

He’s a magnificent bird, that Peacock. At first, he strutted in a vainglorious fashion all over the property. His plumage swept the grounds while walking as if it were a royal train. He seemed quite used to people, and I had to ask him, “Are you showing off for me now?”  He shifted a little pompously, and I realized I could not have been more wrong. Almost invisible in her plainness, a peahen stood behind, looking at the ground, wandering, and basically doing her own thing.

I felt a great deal of sympathy for her, the one I perceived as plain. Beside her flamboyant mate, the contrast seemed painful.  It’s hard to look past so much peacock pulchritude. Sadness like a dull and drab cover, crept over me for her.

It wasn’t long at all before I realized my sympathies were grossly misplaced. She was completely oblivious to the gorgeousness of her male friend. He seemed overly eager to get her attention in the most obvious ways, while she went about her own business, casting furtive glances at him now and then. Was she playing a hard to get game?

Undeterred by her lack of engagement, he continued showing-off. First, he strutted in front of her, but she turned her back to him. Then, he serenaded her with his song titled, Cacophony.  The discordant cry got crumbs of her attention, and she moved her sight back to the ground.

Our man unflustered, undid his plumage, and he started to dramatically elevate it for her. Fanning most of it out, he stood proudly dancing in front of her.  I almost died at the fifty shades of blue and green. Those eyes on the feathers hypnotized me, the unintended audience member. From the peahen however, all he got was a perfunctory, almost dismissive glance, while she went about her business. Relentless, he got in her face, fanned wider,  with his plumage now in full glory. While I could not bear so much beauty, she just turned away without much care. So he shook the jewel-like fan, and it made a rustling sound like a breeze between swaying leaves. While I was transfixed with the spectacular performance, she seemed almost glacial. I tried to capture her in the pictures, she just preferred the background, the anonymity. It’s hard to spot her in the pictures captured.

He decided to change strategy, and he slowly turned around for her. Not as glorious, he still looked impressive. She slowly looked up and held her gaze. He realized she liked that. Then he shook his derrière, ruffled a few unimpressive feathers in that area, and somehow, she was hooked. She stopped doing her work. Her attention was fully on him. Elated his charms were working; he shimmied and shook his bottom for her with enthusiastic gratitude. She joined him in this call, and together the peafowl walked happily into the sunset.

Beauty is subjective indeed, and the polygamous peahen finally picked up the “plain” peacock. All that vanity and puffery I thought the male showed, was actually a pride of effort. Oh, the poor misunderstood peacock!  Look closely, and you’ll see courtship is hard work, even in a Swipe-Left-Swipe-Right world.