Every morning after cafe con leche and media lunas we walk to the park to feed las palomas and the paraquits. The pigeons gulp down the bread, while the paraquits daintily hold it in their hands and consume tiny pieces.
We had the idea that we could please the paraquits by offering them food from the
jungle: bananas and mangos. Sadly, they refused what we supposed was their native food and instead fought with the pigeons for the white bread.
Given a choice, would every creature become civilized and wildness lost forever?
I, for one, cherish my tenth floor apartment with the Baires lights at my feet and the bright winter's sun moving in across my balcony.
Reading of revolution
friends write of fearful conventions.
So far from my home. I have forgotten.
Watching the sunset from my balcony apartment I look for the rising
of the Southern Cross. I first went beneath it sixty years ago. Now is the
time to reflect on what happened in-between. Marco Polo first identified
the Southern Cross in the 13th century with its stars Alpha and Beta in
the constellation Centauro. Every time I went beneath it I became pregnant
which gave me a spirited family of Latinos to raise.
The youngest one, Tomas, has now brought his own family to Buenos
Aires where he will be teaching at the university for a month.
Every morning we go to the park and feed the birds our left over media Luna's
(croissants). We noticed paraquits driven from the jungle by deforestation.
They are feeding on fruits of the Brazilian silk tree which are the same size and color
of the birds themselves.
Last night we watched the Republican National Convention in Spanish,
full moon crossing the cloudy sky. It's winter, bitter cold when the sun goes down, but bright and blue during the day. I enjoy the Midwestern-like weather.
It's my job to buy the media Luna's or croissants for breakfast, so must
momentarily go for my morning walk past colonial houses. At 9 am, Baires is
just waking-up and the street cleaners say "Bueno" to me. Now, to see what the day unfolds.
One of Tom's colleagues wants to invite us all over. Yas wants to take the children to art
class at the museum.
I hope today I get to visit the birds I've made friends with at the park: pigeons and parquits
banished from the jungle by deforestation. They live in the evergreen tree and eat
fruit the same color and size as the paraquit. I must find the name of the tree.
I hope your day unfolds in a great way.
