Today I heard a loud bird scream, and then I saw a parrot flying in front of me. Well, technically, it was in front of my window, but it was in front of me too. Ringneck parakeets are impossible to miss when walking in most Parisian parks, but today's wind brought one closer to the urban center of my part of town. Trees pushed out their young, soft leaves, and the little, natural holes in the giant plane trees got filled with the nests of fat pigeons. I remembered a Michelin-star pigeon I ate last year - a delightful experience. Thinking about it, looking at birds, I got a bit sad and a bit hungry. Those two often go together.
A couple of months ago, I took a photo in the middle of the sleepy forest—the only green thing in seas of beige, brown, and gray: a green parakeet.
Today, there are over 5000 of them in the city. They have lived here since the 1970s when they flew out of a container close to Orly Airport. So the story goes... Surprisingly, this incredible population that makes you wonder if you’re still in Paris has nothing to do with global warming. In Asia, they live everywhere from lowland forests all the way to 1500m in the Himalayas.
Next Monday is International Mother Earth Day, and this window encounter happened as I was researching native flower species on each of the continents for a map. I loved the synchronicity of this rendez vous, and as I notice flowers everywhere this spring (more than usual), I said, "désolée" to Mr. and Ms. Parrot (they always fly in couples and I maybe wrongfully assume that they are straight but here we are) and continued drawing camelias. Birds will get their own map some other week.
On Friday evening, I painted strawberries. I had gotten them in the morning on a little market close to Saint Paul metro stop, shipped them through the city, and was enjoying the fragrance of the plump red strawberries from my childhood - and from my bag - all day long. I also feared this smell meant they were turning into compote or worse. After a couple of hours in the fridge, they recovered, regained their plumpness, and were ready to be eaten. Or painted. Or both.
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