The birds of Hawaii, in their multitude of colors and forms, strut and alternate their strides with their heads held high. Bipeds that are confident. Secure. Fearless. Their flight plan involves plopping right down in your personal space, breathing your air and eyeing your food, waiting for you to leave so they can partake, but they always patiently wait their turn by eating the crumbs fallen at your feet. For days, I’ve been watching these birds and I can attest that they are completely undaunted by your presence here in their Hawaii. For you are a mere human, mortal–and you certainly cannot fly. The birds here are showy, pluming and preening their feathers in front of you, as if they are courting you with their Aloha Spirit. Californian birds, or the birds from my home state, are much more enigmatic, evasive, skittish and untouchable, sometimes like the people who live there–some of whom would snatch your bag of Doritos right out of your hands if you’d let them.
