YOU COULD set the dinner table by their arrival; it’s that accurate this time of year. Around 4:30 PM, a chorus of high-pitched, manic screeches announce an impressive flock of wild parrots making transit overhead, headed northeast, streaking across the sky. Last night, there had to be about a hundred or more easily, streaming over our rooftops. Tonight, there were fewer, but it still sounded like a scene out of Hitchcok’s The Birds. They were loud enough that many of my neighbors came out of their houses to stare upward transfixed. Some attempted to get a shot with their phones. Even the Salvation Army truck driver who was attempting to load the largest big-screen TV I’ve ever seen emerge from a tiny house, stopped mid-load-up, the huge console still on the dolly, to comprehend not just the sight but sound. Unfortunately, even with my camera I wasn’t able to get the shot I’d hoped for. The sky just filled with inky-sihouttes, and, if they slowed enough, a bright yellow head. For the next few days I will try, until their pattern shifts some.
From earlier — evidence of wild parrot: