Parrot Season

They arrive.

They enjoy a shrieking, screaming visit. I think they're having a good time.

They leave.

They'll be back.

Bookmarks: Literary Pasadena

Amid all the editing and proofreading I've been doing lately (I've practically memorized Camelot & Vine), a pleasant task came my way the other day. I was asked to proofread my contribution to a new book that's coming out in April called Literary Pasadena: The Fiction Edition.

You're going to want to get a copy of this book. It contains short stories by many of Pasadena's best authors, plus excerpts from upcoming works, and more. I'm honored to be a part of it.

Funny thing about my novel, Camelot & Vine. I've been working on it for so long I'm embarrassed to say. It's a good book, I think. I won't know 'til you read it, but it's mine, I love it, and it's a fun story.  If it were War & Peace I might be willing to tell you how long it took me to write it. I have slaved over the proofreading, tweaking where I dare, and sometimes wishing I could rewrite the whole damn thing.

Not so with my little short story in Literary Pasadena. I wrote it. I like it. Done.

Why is that? What's the difference?

The picture: parrots. They invaded our neighborhood last week. Enlarge the photo and see, they are all along the phone wires, all the way down the street. When I took this they were in every treetop, on every wire, flying everywhere. The noise they make is deafening.

I chose this picture because to me, the parrots are uniquely Pasadena. Literary Pasadena: The Fiction Edition, will be uniquely Pasadena, too.

Parrot Droppings

I've never gotten a good shot of a Pasadena parrot. I've tried, but they don't fly low enough and I don't fly high enough.

Even though parrots regularly flap above our neighborhoods, we don't often find their feathers on the ground. I wonder why that is.

We decided not to touch it. Mom always said birds are dirty animals, and I suppose she was right, even when they're bright and beautiful and very, very loud.

Parrot Season

My title's misleading. It's always parrot season in Pasadena.

Some say they escaped or were freed from a 1959 fire at Simpson's Gardenland and Bird Farm, or they flew up from Mexico and Central America. Some say they were spawned by remnants of Adolphus Busch's original Busch Gardens in the Arroyo. (The Parrot Project of Los Angeles has all the doo-doo.) Escaped pets joined up, everybody reproduced, et volant! We've got flocks and flocks.

Giant gangs of them roam our skies year 'round, bleating, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" like terrified Aunt Tillies. But winter is their big time. The noise they make can be deafening. I love them.

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