An adult male King Parrot turns up in my backyard every few days, for seeds, and possibly company (not that a parrot needs human company - unless it's a bedraggled, schizophrenic parrot kept in the bottom of a rotting hulk in some far-flung, fantastical, pirate-infested corner of the globe, or dead, on a TV, in a British living room).
This morning, two adult males appeared and hung out with me for twenty minutes. I handed them some seeds and fruit. They were flighty, screechy and evasive if my son, dog and I got too close. But then, they'd come back, feed some more. Eventually, some other disturbance beyond our comprehension, involving an hysterical cockatoo, pushed the birds into the air, then memory.
The vermillion on the parrots' heads and chests was dazzling. I used to think the orange-red of an adult male Flame Robin was the most blindingly beautiful colour in Australian nature, now I'm not so sure.
LJ, November 12 2010