We look at the macaw and admire its beautiful, colorful plumage, but then it looks back at us; that gaze… Does it feel disturbed or perhaps flattered? Is it suspicious, or is it even flirting with us?… The imagination knows no bounds…

We look at the macaw and admire its beautiful, colorful plumage, but then it looks back at us; that gaze… Does it feel disturbed or perhaps flattered? Is it suspicious, or is it even flirting with us?… The imagination knows no bounds…