Headed toward the low 60s today, I'm told, but it doesn't feel that way now. Most of the leaves have been raked or vacuumed up, so even with the number and variety of evergreens around and the occasional sun-break, the view out my window looks a little on the bleak side. And it just seems quieter with the leaves gone. And it feels like rain is coming, although we've had a pretty late start to the rainy season this year.
The parrot has been dozing quietly. I suddenly notice he's got his head cocked to the side, a sign that he's heard something and is now searching for what the sound came from. I listen too, and then I hear it; so faint I might not have noticed on my own. Geese. Flying in formation, headed generally southward.
I look at the parrot. “Can you tell what they're saying?”
What we usually think of as a parrot's shoulders are actually his wrists. He shrugs his wrists at me. “They're from Canada. They still speak English there.” It's hard to tell from a parrot's face just how much of a smartass he's trying to be.
The sun came up a few minutes after seven this morning. It'll set in a little over six hours from now. I look at the parrot; the parrot looks at me. I imagine we're both thinking the same thing.
Two non-migratory bipeds, and a long time until April.