15 years ago, I was laid up in bed with a broken leg during the hottest summer in decades. It was the year of the Atlanta Olympics. Having a Dutch door in my bedroom, I was able to keep a breeze flowing through my room. It provided comfort during those scorching days. I used to see the red petal flowers from the tree outside falling in clumps. In the 35 plus years that my family had owned the house, I never saw anything like it. I could not figure out what was going on. I thought perhaps that a life of indulgence had caught up with me.
Finally, after a week of mystery, I hobbled outside with crutches and discovered a wild green parrot eating the bright red flowers. It was having a ball floating around the tree, hanging by its feet to grab them. The next year, two parrots arrived in the springtime and danced in the trees. The following year, 7 parrots arrived. The year after that, a flock of 15 filled my tree. Each year since 1996, wild green parrots fill my tree feasting on the Coral tree. They announced their arrival, a yearly tradition, yearly last week with loud singing.