Serendipity

I love weekends in the City when I have nothing to do but follow the wind of my whims.  The strangest things happen when you float through the day, moment to moment, open to the universe as the sun shines down on your face.  Like maybe a big red parrot lands on your arm.

Seriously, this can happen. It happened to me just the other day...

I walked out of my house on a Sunday morning with only one thing to do - meet my good friends Rosa and Russia for breakfast at Mission Beach Cafe.  They were in town with their son for a Cub Scout adventure at the Academy of Sciences.  They had the pleasure of an overnight retreat in the famous museum whose mission is to explore, explain, and sustain life.  In fact, they slept next to the upside down jelly fish, along with the 400 other scouts, siblings, and parents.  I went to college with Rosa.  He was a history major too, plus we travelled to Oaxaca, shared a house, and did a lot of growing up together in our twenties.  After school, he went into the Peace Corps and met the lovely Russia, whom he married and moved with to the Sierra Nevada foothills.  But they miss the City life, and a good bikini waxer, so they pop back into town every six to eight weeks for a visit.

Breakfast was delicious, as expected, and the Sunday morning sun felt warm on my pale winter skin, so after dropping them off at the N line, I meandered home through the Castro and up to Dolores Park.  I'd bought a pack of menthol cigarettes on Friday night, in a (seemingly too regular) moment of weakness, which I'd stashed in my purse "just in case" I found a nice moment to savor one.  I found that moment on a park bench over looking the sleepy City.  To my delight, the park go-ers were starting to take hold and mischief was beginning to brew.  A joint sparked under the branches of a low tree, three hipsters stashed a 12-pack of Tecate haphazardly under a blanket, a nearly naked man lathered suntan lotion over his bronzed leathery skin, and a crowd of wide-eyed children and parents gathered around a man and his two parrots.

He stood at the top of the bright green slope, a large red parrot perched on each shoulder, dutifully answering questions about his mates and posing for photos.  And when I say large, I mean that the body of each parrot was taller than his head, and the tail feathers reach down the length of his back. I stared in fascination, the way children stare, without shame. After the novelty of being so close wore off, I spaced out back over the park crowd, letting my gaze drift off to the distant East Bay hills, when I heard an "oooh aahh" over my right shoulder.  The birds had taken flight.

They danced through the sky, rising in circles above the park but staying close to each other as their wings opened in free flight.  A women parked her stroller and sat next to me on the bench. We watched in wonderment and silence as the red feathered creatures frolicked in the morning sun.  They reached high into the sky over Dolores Heights before their owner called to them to stay closer.  I watched over my shoulder as they heeded his call for return.  To my surprise, they soared down close to our heads, and we bench dwellers both ducked as they circled back down and around.  The smaller of the two cut right and back up to her owner's arm.  They larger male took his time, soaring out over the playground before circling back up to the hill.  He came in low towards the grass, almost out of sight and then popped up directly at us.  In less than a second we were staring eye to eye and he was coming straight for me.  My instinct was to duck and cover, but as I bent forward with closed eyes, my left arm extended outward, creating a perfect perch, where he landed with ease.  I. was. terrified.

I was so terrified that I couldn't even look at him.  I felt his weight. I felt his talons. I felt his aura. But I was scared shitless to look him in the eye.  I searched for his owner's gaze.  He was calm and called out "just shake him off." Just shake him off?  Um, ok. So I carefully gave my arm a gentle shake.  Nothing.  "It's ok.  Do it harder.  He won't hurt you." I leaned forward, took a step off the seat, and gave my arm a harder shake, with the motion of the wave hip hop dance move. He took flight and I collapsed back onto the bench.  I took a deep breath and regained my composure just in time to see the parrot land on his owner's shoulder with agility and grace.  He smiled. "You did great." I smiled, awkwardly. I was shaking with adrenaline and disbelief.

Strange things happen in the City. Thank you sunshine and serendipity.

[And thank you random Latina mom bench dweller who snapped the photo and shared it with me.]