Later, as I lingered on the Peru field guide's plate of oystercatchers, jacanas and lapwings, a pair of our oystercatchers piped past, approving vociferously, I'd like to think, of my interest in their neotropic cousins.
When I reached the pages on parrots, I heard in turn their voices in my head, the chesty snip-snap of dusky-headed parakeets and the raucous happy bleats of yellow-crowned parrots, surfacing from beneath five years of dust, of leopards, of lemurs, and of not wanting to remember.
Now I'm excited to be going back. Scared a little. And excited.
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