Scarlet Macaw Summer
By: Gabrielle Toutin,
Staff Writer
Oh man, this is going to be the best summer ever! I squealed inside my head on the last day of school, hopping into a camo-colored jeep with no roof covered in peeling animal stickers.
“Excited?” Dad inquired from the driver’s seat.
“How could I not be?!?!” I grinned. “The Hoh Rainforest is such a beautiful place! I love that we’re going to spend an entire summer there, in my favorite place in the entire world.”
The week before, I had heard the splendid news and smiled for a whole day. That day was horrible for my burning cheek muscles, but I think I set a world record for longest smiling. My ecologist parents were going to spend an entire summer guiding tours and studying the organisms living in the forest of my favorite place in the world: the Hoh Rainforest in Washington. And we were allowed to camp!
“I’m gonna bring all my cool trekking equipment I got for our birthday,” my twin brother Alex exclaimed.
As we bounced along the mossy, wet road home from school, I decided to bring a bird field guide, a flashlight, and some other things.
“Got your things ready, everyone?” my mom said, not wanting to forget anything.
“Yes!” the rest of us replied.
“Great! Let’s go.”
“Wait! Can I bring this birdseed?” I quickly said to Dad as Mom and Alex were sailing out the door. I wanted to attract birds to my hand. I had seen a video on YouTube of a bunch of chickadees eating out of a very patient person’s hand.
He gave me a funny look, then answered, “I don’t see why you’ll need it, but sure, if you have room for it in your backpack.”
I swiftly sprinted out the door with the bag of birdseed in my hand, got in the jeep, and stuffed it in my backpack.
An hour later, I was actually standing inside the actual Hoh Rainforest. It was stunning. I heard juncos, towhees, and so many other birds I loved so much. It was as if I was living inside Rio 2.
Welcome! read the cheery sign on the glass door of the visitor’s center.
“Thank you very much,” I joked. “I hear your tours are awesome!” I laughed truthfully.
A few minutes later, we left for the tour.
“Before we leave, it is very important to stay on the trails. You could get lost in the wilderness. I know that sounds nice in this rainforest, but it can be deadly!” Mom solemnly stated.
I played with the settings on my binoculars, not really paying attention. After all, I have been the daughter of two ecologists for twelve years. Shouldn’t I know everything about this forest safety stuff already?
Starting out into the woods, I spotted a flock of juncos, which are common here; a red-winged blackbird and his mate; chickadees; and, my favorite, the Rufous hummingbird.
Ack, ack, ack, ack!
“What’s that?!?” I asked my dad.
“I think that’s a brown pelican, but they never come this far inland! They’re only on the coast, and only when they’re migrating. But don’t you go off looking for them! Hello? Allison?”
I was already gone. Confident in my outdoor experience, I crunched over wet moss until I came to a magical place with mist floating over the rocks. OK, I know, it wasn’t really mist floating over rocks, but a tiny stream. I breathed in the humid, fresh, piney air and stumbled onto my backpack.
Ack! Right behind me. There was a magnificent scarlet macaw. Right there. I held out the birdseed, not taking my eyes off of the macaw.
That’s no pelican! I yelled in my mind.
“Do you like sunflower seed?” I asked it.
“Awk!” It hopped on my arm.
“I’m gonna pet you, don’t be scared,” I whispered.
I pet it and it closed its eyes.
“Boy, you have a lot of pinnies!” I barely said. I was referring to pinfeathers, the itchy little cylinders new feathers come in. “I’d better get you somewhere safe, little sweetie.” It squeaked and closed its eyes.
Bird on shoulder, I discovered my GPS was broken. My phone didn’t have any GPS, either, and it was dead. I had not taken one of the little maps in the visitors’ center for fear of littering.
No GPS, I’ll have to follow landmarks. That sounds fun! I chattered in my head.
Dark was coming soon, and I couldn’t find my way back to the trail. I shuddered as I thought of bears. I snapped a stick off of a tree, sharpened it with a rock, turned on my flashlight, and noticed the scarlet macaw with its head behind its wing on my shoulder.
I’d rather be where people can see me from far away and rescue me than in the midst of trees when only people very close can see me and rescue me, I reasoned, knowing that I’d have to spend the night in the Dark. Great, my parents will be worried. I can’t wait.
Luckily, I could still hear the Hoh River, so I trekked to the Hoh River, one of the great rivers in Washington. Fearing floods, I found a small climb-able tree. It had four branches shaped like a basket, and a little stick off to the side. Perfect. I put the scarlet macaw on the little stick, and crouched in the “basket”.
I whispered, “I’m going to name you ‘Scarlet’.”
“Beep,” Scarlet answered.
“How did you get here, anyway?”
“French fry!”
“Aww, that’s cute. Who taught you that?”
“Hoh Rainforest Visitor Center. Half a mile down the river! AAAAAAAAAAWK!”
I almost fell out of the tree. I pointed. “This way or that way?”
“Hoh Rainforest Visitor Center. ‘This’ way!”
“Let’s go, little baby Scarlet!” It was better to go where there might be a Visitor Center than to stay where you are certain there is no Visitor Center.
“And don’t call me Shirley,” quoted Scarlet. Disco the Parakeet says that. Maybe somebody showed Scarlet some Disco the Parakeet videos. Disco the Parakeet is a budgie on YouTube who says phrases that his owners teach him. I’ve spent hours and hours laughing at him.
Half a mile down the river, I reached the Visitor Center. Just like Scarlet predicted.
“Thanks, Scarlet!” I whispered, scratching its head.
I fast-walked to the door and opened it. Jaws dropped.
“Hello! I’m Scarlet!” Scarlet chirped, like it was perfectly normal for a girl and a large tropical bird to walk into a building from a temperate rainforest.
The secretary, not being able to speak, pointed at a sign saying WANTED: Female Scarlet Macaw REWARD $1,000. Last seen in Hoh Rainforest parking lot.
My heart fell. “Aww,” I whined as I handed Scarlet over.
“Scarlet want human! Scarlet want human NOW!” Scarlet screamed. She clung on to my arm and made her stomach hard as concrete like birds do when they don’t want to be picked up.
Hope beaming out of my facial features, I said, “You can keep the thousand dollars if I can keep Scarlet.”
“That’s a nice name for her, and she seems to like you, so I suppose you can keep her if your parents are OK with that,” the lady at the front desk warbled.
“Oh, really! Thank you so much! I love birds beyond belief! And I’m almost certain my parents will be OK!” I grinned harder than the day I learned we were even coming here.
“If you’re taking her, you’ll need this cage we had for her when we got her yesterday.”
“Oh, I won’t be needing it yet. Scarlet can stay here in the Visitor’s Center during the day until I leave at the end of summer. For now, I’ll bring her to the house we are renting for the summer.”
“All right then, you’ll need this perch for her. And I see that you’ve already got some birdseed for her. When you get to the house, fill one of these dishes on the perch with water and the other with seed.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you so much again! Oh, and can I call my family? They’re probably going nuts right now!”
“Sure!”
I called them, told them about Scarlet, and soon the camo-colored jeep showed up, this time with a roof so Scarlet wouldn’t fly away. I put the perch in the trunk, Scarlet on my shoulder, backpack on my lap, and the car bounded away to the house amidst pettings and preenings.
Oh man, this is going to be the best summer ever! I squealed inside of my head as the camo-colored jeep covered in peeling animal stickers rolled away.