Three caique parrots perching and eating.

Living with Parrots Means You are Their Tree

Living with Parrots Means You are Their Tree

I like to think of myself as the Landing Zone for all our aircraft.  I will also admit I may resemble some sort of tree. In either case, I need to stand still.

Butters' lands on my head or shoulder like an albatross without a headwind. Big, bold and startling. There's no reason to be startled of course, she announces her intentions with a mighty flock call of ignition. I know she's coming, and I know when she's landed. Her arrival feels like being shoved in the hallway back in grade school. Followed by a wet willie in my ear. Because she's gotta let me know she's staying for a while.

Blue and gold macaw smiling.

Snickers' landing is far more subtle. You could say finessed with care. He only lands on my head and then spelunks down to my shoulder. Snickers lands lightly like a helicopter. After the landing he continues to spin in a circle for a bit before going over the edge via my ear. His foot grip is so loose and light I have no idea how he doesn't overshoot the landing and just slide off and crash to the floor in a puddle of determined feathers.

Scarlet macaw sitting in a window view.

Kirby is the jet fighter. Light, nimble, and stealthy as a small blue ninja. I don't hear him coming, and I barely feel him land on my shoulder. It's almost as if he teleports. It's not so much a landing as it is a ShaZAM! He really needs a puff of smoke to finish the affect.

Blue Indian ringneck parakeet eating cantaloupe.

Felix doesn't fly; therefore, he doesn't land. The LZ tree comes to him. Which is me.

African Grey Parrot sitting on Kathy LaFollett's hand.

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