Waiting to be fed

A series of feedings that I find interesting as a collection. At this point in my diary keeping, the individual entries tend to be brief. They get longer and more detailed as time goes on.

3/9/95 Thursday

They were unusually “crazy” and noisy today. My guess is that it was raining hard all day and they felt repressed by it. When it stopped raining all their pent-up energy came out.

3/10/95 Friday

Two new hand-feeders. Yesterday the one I assume is female, Kristine, kept biting me real hard. She finally broke the skin. But today she’s less nervous. She had been eating from the cup itself at one point. She was fluttering around in the air and I caught her on the cup. She ate from it until I had to refill my right hand. Her mate, Sam, is less nervous. Quite dominant.

I saw Blue [a scrub jay] give a peanut to Violet [his scrub jay mate] today.

It’s been raining heavily and now they’re playing a strange game. They fly to a tree, plop down on the outer layer of leaves and spread their wings out–to dry them I assume. Suddenly one will fly from one spot on the tree to another and spread its wings again. Then another bird will move to a new spot–almost like “follow the leader”.

3/11/95 Saturday

I saw them flying along the Embarcadero at 6:40–cloudy rainy day–bypassing me completely (as they’ve been doing).

They fly in a stack.

They show up here at 7:02. A brief feeding, then they leave. Mandela occasionally bites my hand when I reach in for seeds.

Crazy scenes. They keep coming to feed, but alarms are going off constantly, and then they suddenly bolt. They come back and then bolt again. Mandela landed on my right shoulder this time, then crawled across my chest to my left arm. Stella on my right hand with Jones. All of this so brief. They take off again.

They fly in circles above the “bowl” of the garden, landing in different trees, then take off again.

Finally found the source of this morning’s intense craziness. The usual–a big hawk. Not distant either. He flew right through the bowl.

3/12/95 Sunday

Humorous sight. About half of the flock is napping in the loquat tree–the rest is elsewhere. Smith and Jones come flying in squawking and the tree erupts in parrot screams–but you don’t see a single parrot.

3/14/95 Tuesday

This morning Catherine showed up alone–although I think I heard Connor squawking far off. In any case she came over to the fire escape and let out one call to let me know she was there. I fed her alone until she left. First time ever–this. She was nervous about it all.

Guy was attacking Marlon and I put my hand in between them to protect Marlon. I had to push Guy away hard. The nice thing was that neither flew away. Marlon–in gratitude–bit me.

Mozart keeps biting my fingers. I keep lifting him by his beak. [This was my “punishment” for biting parrots: I would let them take my index finger in their beaks, put my thumb on top of the top beak and lift them into the air.] He doesn’t want it–but it doesn’t stop him. He tries to give me little bites so I can’t get my finger in far enough.

At one point Mandela’s right wing was just as high as his left. Later I noticed it sagging, but only a very slight bit. So I think he’s making a full recovery.

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