It seems that whatever it is about this palm flower which sends the bees groggy and drunken has no visible effect on the local parakeets (they haven’t fallen — thud — to the ground or anything).
The bloke who planted the tree should be back from Laos in a day or two, so I should be able to find out from him what sort of palm it be.
These are smaller and more colourful birds than the middle-sized white corellas which typically inhabit the park at the bottom of the local school (and occasionally flit past to terrify the local crows into silencing their own strident ownership-claims).
Despite a week or so’s enthusiastic shedding of fronds and bees, the flower is still larger than either of our littler children.
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