I was reminded the other day of how we get used to the familiar while remaining sub-consciously on the look-out for the unusual like a sleeping dog with one eye open and one ear twitching.
Wandering the well-heeled streets of Woollahra in Sydney my subconscious brain was awakened by a bird call, followed by the flash of a two-foot long tail. My brain automatically scrolled through the local bird species without finding a match. I squinted into the sunlight and made out the shape of a pair of large parrots perched in a tree. I mouthed the word Macaws.
I recognised them as I had recently returned from South America and despite early morning trudges through the rainforest in gumboots had not managed to see one. But here they were Woollarah! I could have saved myself a lot of money and a very long flight.
Charcoal beaks reminiscent of Australian black cockatoos, prehistoric, powerful, with the size and strength to bite through branch or bone. Bright aqua blue and yellow plumage, the colour of fruits of the forest. Gracefully preening, flying and eating together, bonding for life. I have since heard that they are local pets allowed out to free fly. That makes them homing Macaws.