The parrots! The parrots!

We moved from South of Market to upper Eureka Valley ten months ago. We’re two thirds of the way up Twin Peaks, in dense trees and occasional fog. This morning, Sunday morning, the parrots flew by.

(I forget that this blog is set, by default, to GMT. It’s still Sunday evening, nine-thirty-ish, as I write this.)

The “Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill,” made famous in book and film, paid us a visit. Three flew screeching into the towering buckeye chestnut in the neighbor’s yard, then promptly flew away with much squawking, and then two returned to the buckeye and a nearby pine tree, again with much noise, and color. They were green and red, comical and playful.

Made my day.