Wednesday, 15 May 2013

Parrots in July

... masked duo ...

 ... a little blue ...

... a cold fuzzy ...

... all decked-out and nowhere to go ...

... wired ...

... cardinal red ...

... quiet pandemonium ...

Two collective nouns for parrots are: 'a pandemonium of parrots' and a 'bravado of parrots'.

Parrots are clever - you can see it in their eyes. An awareness. .

These parrots look cold, The photos were taken one July. Where I live, July is mid-winter.

Parrots are by nature more suited to tropical climates. Except New Zealand's olive-green native parrots; kea, kaka and kakapo; which have adapted to the conditions of the country's mountainous and forested habitats.

The tropical parrots above are in cages - nice cages with lots of greenery and space and parrotty preferences. But cages, nonetheless. It worries me how cold they look. Pandemonium and bravado hardly seem apt. Maybe 'a ruffle of parrots' or  'a shiver of parrots' would be more appropriate.


Unknown said...

Parrots are the very best, sharing the perch with crows.

The Bird with the Coppery, Keen Claws
by Wallace Stevens

Above the forest of the parakeets,
A parakeet of parakeets prevails,
A pip of life amid a mort of tails.
(The rudiments of tropics are around,
Aloe of ivory, pear of rusty rind.)
His lids are white because his eyes are blind.

He is not paradise of parakeets,
Of his gold ether, golden alguazil,
Except because he broods there and is still.

Panache upon panache, his tails deploy
Upward and outward, in green-vented forms,
His tip a drop of water full of storms.

But though the turbulent tinges undulate
As his pure intellect applies its laws,
He moves not on his coppery, keen claws.

He munches a dry shell while he exerts
His will, yet never ceases, perfect cock,
To flare, in the sun-pallor of his rock.

Kay Cooke said...

John - Fantastic poem! Stevens is unparalleled. I was wanting a poem for this post; the parrots & I say thank you. (Oh yes and crows - the crows we saw and heard in Japan's winter 2012, still haunt me).

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