Andy's Storytime

Birds of a Feather

April 03, 2023 Andrew Banta
Birds of a Feather
Andy's Storytime
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Andy's Storytime
Birds of a Feather
Apr 03, 2023
Andrew Banta

"Birds of a Feather" is written by Sita Singh and illustrated by Staphanie Fizer Coleman. Mo has always felt a little different. While all the other peacocks grew bright, bold, beautiful feathers in rich greens and vibrant blues, Mo's feathers grew in a snowy white. And even though Mo's friends try to include him in their playtime, Mo doesn't like to be reminded that he's different from his friends. But when a storm threatens to ruin the group's annual celebration, Mo must learn to stand tall, strut his stuff, and shake his brilliantly glowing tail feathers--in a way only he can--to help his friends and set things right.

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"Birds of a Feather" is written by Sita Singh and illustrated by Staphanie Fizer Coleman. Mo has always felt a little different. While all the other peacocks grew bright, bold, beautiful feathers in rich greens and vibrant blues, Mo's feathers grew in a snowy white. And even though Mo's friends try to include him in their playtime, Mo doesn't like to be reminded that he's different from his friends. But when a storm threatens to ruin the group's annual celebration, Mo must learn to stand tall, strut his stuff, and shake his brilliantly glowing tail feathers--in a way only he can--to help his friends and set things right.

Support the Show.

Today, we're reading birds of a feather written by sea to sing and illustrated by Stephanie Pfizer Coleman. One spring morning, the Himalayan jungle. Welcome to new generation of paychecks, including one named Mo. Each one was covered in a coat of yellow or brown feathers. Mo and just friends, roosted high and low cut ticks and termites and screeched loud into the night. Mo love to roost hunting and screech. But what he loved, most of all was playing hide and seek. By the second summer each P chick, Dawn to crest. They grew flight feathers. Tail feathers, fluff, fluff, fluff. Some had short tails, some headlong. All of the long-tailed paychecks turned into peacocks with bright, bold, beautiful colors. All except Mo. Mo look different. From the top of his crest to the tip of his tail, his feathers shown white. Mo didn't mind. The peacocks still did everything together. But as time went on. Hide and seek wasn't quite as fun as it used to be. Mokan hide like the others. He didn't have bright, bold, beautiful feathers. Mo looked different. And he began to feel different too. But his friends did what friends do. You're still a peacock. Don't think about it. Birds of a feather groomed together. You'll be fine. Most shook off his worries. He was glad to belong to such a great group of peacocks. Soon the jungle announced its biggest day. The annual dance in the rain. The young peacocks. Couldn't wait to show off. First rain first dance. They flocked to the color salon. They flew to the bird boutique. All the peacocks pranced, they admired themselves. All except Mo. Even with the fluff and the trim. Most feathers were no match for the others. Mo look different. Moe felt different. And now he also felt alone. But his friends did what friends do. You're still a peacock colors. Don't make the bird. You can do this. Let's learn the dance. NEC tight feathers loose. Spread your tail. Stretch stretch, stretch feathers, swung open. The peacocks strutted they swayed. Color swirled all around. Most friends shouted go Mo go. But all he heard was no Mo no. However hard Mo tried. He only saw what he didn't have. Bright bold, beautiful feathers. Mo looked different Mo felt different. He felt alone. Now he was sad, too. On the big night, everyone gathered to welcome the first rain. Everyone except Mo. Mo watched from place in the trees. Soon black clouds took over the sky and raindrops hit the ground. The peacocks were ready for their dance. But there was just one problem. It was too dark to see. The peacocks bumped into one another, they stepped on one another strains. Their feathers, rumpled and ruffled. Everyone was in a foul mood. Then thunder crashed and lightening flashed suddenly Mo noticed a bright and brilliant glow. He straightened his slouch and loosened his wings. He looked all around until he realized the glow was coming from him. Right away. Took flight in a swoop. He lit up the ground. Yes, Moe was different, but now most saw what he'd had all along bright, bold, beautiful feathers. At his crest felt like a crown. It's lightening flashed the hip hoppers croaked. He glows like the snow. The belly dancers, trumpeted he's as bright as a Lotus. The rock and rollers roared, but we still can't see. Mo knew just what to do. He stood tall. He strutted in suede. Then he fluttered his feathers and swung them open. As Mo dance light flickered it flashed. The jungle glowed, bright. It lasts. Everyone could see. The peacocks fan, their feathers and dance together. Sounds of celebration echoed throughout the jungle. Most smiled. He flaunted his plume as wide as he could. On and on he danced. On and on Mo called to the sky. That night, the rains didn't stop. Neither did Mo. And when his friends shouted again, he heard them loud and clear. Go Mo go.

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