Ibis-nobbling
Today was so nice I think I want to repeat it. Since I have twice as much vacation time as I’ve ever had in my life, I think I may use a day every month or two to go do something fun.
(In passing—the vagaries of the public transportation system here make “doing something fun” vastly easier on a weekday than weekend. I mean, that differential is everywhere, but it’s extreme here. DC public transport caters to commuters. Period. I shall have more to say about this one of these days, but in the meantime, I am seriously considering asking whether I can move my workweek to Tuesday through Saturday, or Sunday through Thursday. It’d honestly make my life easier and more fun.)
Anyway, David and I metroed ourselves down to the zoo, which despite being under heavy construction has a tremendous lot to see. Five rowdy adolescent cheetahs did their level best to terrorize the Grevy’s zebra next door; the zebra eventually told the younguns what was what with a snorting bray and an impressive display of kicking.
Tian Tian the panda was asleep in his enclosure with his back to his adoring public. Oh, well.
In the birdhouse, the male Malaysian argus pheasant had hopped out of his enclosure with the white-faced ducks and was parading about in front of it. When somebody else got too close for his comfort, he simply hopped to the top of the fence and right back in. He’s got the right idea; the fences are to keep us out, not him in. He’s a right impressive-looking specimen, too. The aviary was delighfully free of screaming children (which it never is on weekends), so we had a wonderful time birdspotting with binoculars and matching voices to faces. The sunbittern, alas, was quite silent.
We cruised around the big cats, ate lunch with the hippo, watched the orangutans and the gorillas (and felt terribly sorry for the big silverback who kept holding his fists to his ears to block some of the horrid construction noise) and scooted down to the mammal-house (past the outdoor golden-lion tamarins) just in time to see a very patient keeper showing off Pandora the tenrec, a hedgehoggy sort of critter hailing from Madagascar with a mobile snoot and cute grabby feet.
Eventually we meandered down to Amazonia. On the upper level, we happened upon a railing sporting a scarlet ibis. I duly gave the creature space, edging past it to the opposite end of the rail so that I could look over and see the big turtles in the water underneath.
The ibis sashayed down the rail toward me. I froze. The ibis regarded me for a moment, decided I wasn’t dangerous, and started nobbling at my hands with its beak. Said beak looks far more dangerous than it turns out to be; it’s blunt-ended and doesn’t close hard enough to pinch. Special attention was paid to the rings on both my hands; David surmises that the creature is descended from ancient Egyptian temple ibises accustomed to accepting gifts. Me, I think it’s just used to hand-feeding. Either way, I have been most thoroughly ibis-nobbled. (And if the poor bird has been infected with avian flu, I’m a dead woman. Oh, well. Interesting thing to die for, at least.)
And Amazonia has another sunbittern, who was gracious enough to serenade us. There isn’t a lovelier sound on this earth than a sunbittern whistling.
The invertebrate house boasted a tank of chambered nautilus; the animals are as handsome as their shells, which I hadn’t previously known. We also saw an enormous sort of gaudy-colored lobster, whose keeper proudly brought out the shell from when it last molted. Lobsters have furry feet. Truth. Who knew?
I’m leaving a lot out—it was a full day. Afterwards, we meandered down to Meze on 18th Street for dinner, which we thoroughly enjoyed. Anything they make with red lentils is a winner, and the veggie kabobs are nummy too.
My feet are raw and tired and I’m salt-skinned from sweating, today being tropically humid. But my instinct was right—the way to start feeling at home here is to start building a store of memories that just couldn’t have happened anywhere else. I will not soon forget being ibis-nobbled.