We traveled to Davie late last year, down south and way, way west, to Flamingo Gardens.
Where we saw the dozing, boiled-shrimp-pink symbols of Florida, (more often made of plastic and poked into front yard gardens). They aren't native birds, but they are Florida. Much like we are.
I love any place with a Giant Orange:
and plants that seem made-up:
and trees and a cottage straight out of Grimm:
And peacocks where you would expect the squirrels to be.
And there's the white peacock, not albino, but born with a genetic mutation, leucism. He preens, he struts, he displays, but no other peacock pays him any attention. There's no point to it, I guess.
He's like a ghost there, of no use to the others, but so beautiful, maybe more beautiful, in his singularity.