I don’t know if I mentioned this before. But a few years ago we discovered that our house lied in the path of a parrot migration route. We learned this one day when Beth called animal control thinking that a bunch of parrots had escaped from somewhere because they were all in our neighbor’s tree.
I like walking outside my door and hearing their chatter.
It’s become one of those things that indicate another year has gone by. I don’t know where they’re going or where they’ve come from but seeing them pause for a few days in that tree always makes me happy.
They’re like our neighborhood’s version of the swallows of Capistrano.