Of Parrots and Politicians

Along with the grackles, magpies, cranes and chicken-sized doves, Nicaragua is home to a extensive population of green parrots. They're everywhere. They particularly like to gather in Mango trees where they help themselves shamelessly to the booty at hand, with no regard whatsoever for the owner of the tree. It's not uncommon to see members of the local populous hurling rocks and sticks into the tree in an attempt to both dislodge a ripe mango and scare off the parrots.

Each is about the size of the average American crow and they are collectively a handsome lot, resplendent in their bright green suits. While casually watching them today from the back garden, it occurred to me that I was totally unaware of how to refer to a group of parrots. I know that quail form coveys, and a group of geese are a gaggle, but were parrots merely a flock?

Flock hardly seems accurate when describing this mass of feathered marauders so I took it upon myself to correctly concoct a term that better served the purpose. This required a careful review of the facts. Parrots will appear at any time during daylight hours, sweeping in from nowhere, hundreds at a time, bickering their heads off before disappearing into the nearest tree.


While there, the bickering continues, broken only briefly while everyone stops to catch their breath before a sub group breaks off, moves to another tree, and begins bickering again. Groups will infringe upon one another and the bickering quickly escalates to screaming.

Disputes seem to always go unsolved and as quickly as they arrived, they depart. In their wake, they usually leave a lot of birdshit. Henceforth, whenever I hear them coming, I will gleefully call out to my lovely wife, "Carol, here comes another congress of parrots."