It is a truth universally acknowledged, that peafowl in possession of imperious splendor, must be in want of chickens.

The flashy flock of peafowl roam freely throughout our zoo. They could spend their days gawking at the raw power of pumas, attempting to catch a ride on a camel or zebra, or even marveling at the amphibious whimsy of penguins.

But where I find the peafowl most often is here: gazing, transfixed, through the mesh of one of two chicken coops, like awestruck guests at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Are they hoping, perhaps, to catch a rakish rooster’s eye? Do they feel a flutter in their feathers whenever that brusque bantam hen turns her head? Do they envy the chickens their eggs, their homey clucks and head-down struts…or, against all odds, their captivity?

What are they seeking here, in this space between worlds? What do you think?