Parrot Conservation: The Kakapo

Kakapo by Shane McInnes

The Kakapo is what happens when there is no predation and nature gets creative. It is the world's only flightless and nocturnal parrot and found only in New Zealand. Unlike other parrots it can store fat, may have a natural longevity of 100 years and apparently smells like fruit.

When population control is left to nature, the intricacy is astonishing. The female lays only a few eggs and only when triggered by the production of large crops, the "mast year", of the rimu tree species. The solitary male then produces booming sounds and hikes for miles to find the equally solitary female.

Once estimated at over 200000, the Kakapo came close to extinction several decades ago, through the imported predation of cats and dogs. Conservation measures have been successful and the number has increased from 40 to over 100. Something this comical and special has to be kept alive.

Kakapos are also impossibly friendly:

Notes From The Outback

Rednecks are really nice people. With fewer teeth.

Rural stores are stocked with unhealthy carbs. Somehow counter-intuitive.

One diner, one road and one street sign = small town.
One diner, one road and one traffic light = technologically advanced small town

Discovered new dragonfly species. Has painted wings. Sketched it. Very excited.

Amazing Libella Pulchella

 

 

 

 

Nope. Not new species. 12 spotted skimmer dragonfly. Very common.

Mosquitoes are the size of helicopters. Everything bites. Even the shiny iridescent beetle I found. All Fauna is carnivorous, rude and undomesticated. Itchy. Best way to sketch is to pin them. What?! They started it.

Soybeans. Corn. Something edible. Manure. Manure for miles. How do people live on farms with this smell all day?

"Yaoall farm the cidah?"
"What?"
"Yaoall foam da ciiiidah?"
"Uum, yes? That is an interesting accent, where are you from?"
"Local, born and raised."

"Do you have the paper?"
"I don't read much."

Home: 20 brands of sunscreen. Organic fruit. Massaging shower. Soap. Non-abrasive TP. Air conditioner. Restaurants. The things we take for granted or hopelessly urbanized.

Retire in cozy wood cabin in the woods with vegetable garden no longer on bucket list.

Elevator

I am known to wander. I have been accused of wandering in the wrong direction with such confidence that people feel obligated to follow my lead, only to be disappointed that I do not know where I am going either.

I found myself wandering in a high tech building looking for the stairs to exit it. The universal symbol for stairs did not appear to exist. I was thus obligated to seek out one of many confounding elevators, which serviced certain floors but not the one I needed. Finding the right elevator should not be this puzzling in a place where most of its inhabitants appeared as confused as I was.  Finally, I found a set of respectable looking elevators, waited and was confronted by doors opening only to display that they were at their full capacity.

Tired and impatient, I looked around me and saw one elevator awaiting me with open doors.  I quickly stepped in, the doors closed immediately before I had time to notice that it looked somewhat industrial. I pressed "M" and the elevator with me as its lone occupant began to move up instead of down.

Dead Space

I pressed a few useless numbered buttons, next to a card swipe, to prevent it from arriving at the top executive floor. To no avail. The broken elevator was on an ear-popping mission to reach its heavenly destination with me in it.

Top floor. The doors opened wide as did my eyes. It was windy. I was looking at a copter, blades still rotating. Several individuals were running toward me with their cargo. They belonged in this elevator. I clearly did not. I wished I was dreaming or watching a movie. Neither applied.

They were as surprised to see a lone individual in their elevator as I was desperate to be anywhere but in it. I briefly weighed my options:

I am a moron and walked into the wrong elevator. Too honest.
Quality Control. Excellent work, gentlemen. Not credible.
Bond, James Bond...Too cuckoo's nest.

In the end, I opted for silent VIP in suit, pretending that this is exactly where I am supposed to be at this precise moment in time. They were preoccupied and did not ask questions. I offered no explanation.

I waited until they exited at their floor, before I stepped out. I looked back at the elevator.
Instead of call buttons there was a big red sign: FOR STAFF ONLY! TO HELIPAD.

I walked out of this adventure as quickly as I could.

Spontaneous Humor In The Produce Section

I was given the mission of hunting and gathering a variety of edibles, which included tomatoes. Upon arriving at my destination, I was positively excited that my prey was lethargically stacked in pyramid formation waiting to be selected, weighed, clubbed and dragged home.

Standing next to me at the tomato pen was a very polite looking gentleman, equally tasked with providing nourishment for his family.  As we carefully selected this fruit by color and ripeness in contemplative unison, I noticed that some of the tomatoes had some white dust on them.

Closer inspection revealed that the miniscule white dust was moving.  Unless one is married to an entomologist, this presented a problem. Wistfully, I placed them back. "Bugs," I sighed. My fellow tomato hunter paused, confirmed my observation and followed my lead.

I had moved on to a different, less ripe, non-heirloom variety, when I noticed that he had changed his mind and had decided to buy the infested tomatoes after all.

"The bugs. Maybe they're tasty," he explained.
"Some cultures consider insects a delicacy."
"I think I'll boil them."
"Well, it is extra protein."
"And the store is only charging for the tomatoes. I think it's a great deal."
"Never pass up a great bargain," I agreed.
"You're not getting any?"
"I'll be quarantined if I bring those home."
"Aah! She's a vegetarian," he stated.