According to the news this morning Pomona, a small California burg, has become the new home for a horde of chattering, screeching, pooping parrots. A few of the residents enjoy the avian invasion; most are not amused.
I used to live near Pomona, and it was my neighborhood where the parrots first chose to live. I remember when and I remember why.
In the late 1950s, there was a huge "parrot ranch" about 10 miles from my house, a series of large, barnlike structures where parrots of all varieties were bred and raised for sale. One night, the place caught fire. It was a big fire, too; we could see the glow from the flames in the sky.
The first firemen to arrive, realizing the buildings would be almost impossible to save, broke in and released as many of the parrots as they could. I seem to remember that several hundred survived.
Said parrots stuck together, adapted nicely to their new environment, and (of course) started laying eggs. For years, we saw flocks of them everywhere. The Pomona Parrots are their descendants. I'm happy to know they're still doing well.
No doubt there will be attempts made to get rid of them. It hasn't worked before, and I see no chance of it working now. They are wily critters, fast and good at camouflaging themselves.
We have parrots here Where The Ghetto Meets The Sea as well. I like 'em.
PARENTHETICAL POST-SCRIPT-Y ABSOLUTELY-NO-PRIZE-FOR-GUESSING TYPE QUESTION: How many parrots do you see in this photo?
18 hours ago