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Interlude between block 5 and block 6
Mar. 9th, 2004 09:32 amThe parrots live on the Dolores Street median. Not on the median, of course, but in the palm trees that grow up out of the raised, grassy, and concrete embankments. Palm trees run the length of Dolores, well over a mile, so there’s lots of room to frolic and fly. It’s long enough so that you never know if you’ll get to see them on any given day
The palm trees have their own story of course. The Dolores Street ones are well established and part of the tourist infrastructure. They’re included in the 49 Mile Scenic drive so they’re here to stay. The ones a block away on Market Street, however, are relatively new. Planting them might be the one good thing that Frank Jordan ever did, though the local Left, in one of it’s* sillier moments, opposed the palm trees,** saying the money should be spent on AIDS.
The parrots give me hope. Parrots can live longer than 50 years so they often outlast their owners, especially on this street so close to the Castro and the early death years of the ‘80s. . I don’t know how it started, but survivor parrots and strays formed an avian community in the trees of Dolores Street. Faced with foster homes and resentful estate liquidators, they chose risk and freedom; life smack in the middle of noxious, honking cars, church goers, and real estate brokers.
It’s hard to get a look at them, but I know they’re not all parrots per se. Other domesticated avians hear the call through the windows of their homes and plot their escape. Cockatiels, parakeets, budgies, and lovebirds have joined up with the pioneers and the more visionary warblers, blackbirds, sparrows and Pygmy Nuthatches who were born free. Parrots is more like a gang name, really. It’s tough and intimidating, at least for birds, because of the whole pirate/parrot connection. I’ve seen them attack when provoked too, swooping down at the heads of passerby who’ve come too close.
When the Parrots are there, you can hear their singing at least a quiet block away.*** It doesn’t make it feel like the country, or a small town, it makes it feel like a city where good things are possible.
*Should I say "our"? I consider myself part of the Left of course, but I argued strenuously against my more "militant" friends on this one.
** Don’t even start with that "native species" argument, by the way. I love my ice plant, eucalyptus trees, and all my friends from New York.
***I feel like I should make some kind of obligatory Brigadoon reference here. Consider it written.
The palm trees have their own story of course. The Dolores Street ones are well established and part of the tourist infrastructure. They’re included in the 49 Mile Scenic drive so they’re here to stay. The ones a block away on Market Street, however, are relatively new. Planting them might be the one good thing that Frank Jordan ever did, though the local Left, in one of it’s* sillier moments, opposed the palm trees,** saying the money should be spent on AIDS.
The parrots give me hope. Parrots can live longer than 50 years so they often outlast their owners, especially on this street so close to the Castro and the early death years of the ‘80s. . I don’t know how it started, but survivor parrots and strays formed an avian community in the trees of Dolores Street. Faced with foster homes and resentful estate liquidators, they chose risk and freedom; life smack in the middle of noxious, honking cars, church goers, and real estate brokers.
It’s hard to get a look at them, but I know they’re not all parrots per se. Other domesticated avians hear the call through the windows of their homes and plot their escape. Cockatiels, parakeets, budgies, and lovebirds have joined up with the pioneers and the more visionary warblers, blackbirds, sparrows and Pygmy Nuthatches who were born free. Parrots is more like a gang name, really. It’s tough and intimidating, at least for birds, because of the whole pirate/parrot connection. I’ve seen them attack when provoked too, swooping down at the heads of passerby who’ve come too close.
When the Parrots are there, you can hear their singing at least a quiet block away.*** It doesn’t make it feel like the country, or a small town, it makes it feel like a city where good things are possible.
*Should I say "our"? I consider myself part of the Left of course, but I argued strenuously against my more "militant" friends on this one.
** Don’t even start with that "native species" argument, by the way. I love my ice plant, eucalyptus trees, and all my friends from New York.
***I feel like I should make some kind of obligatory Brigadoon reference here. Consider it written.
