When you dress in white but still manage to steal the spotlight.

The cockatoo moved with an air of casual authority, as if it were the rightful overseer of this patch of earth. Its yellow crest flicked upward briefly—a gesture that felt like both a greeting and a warning. I stood still, not wanting to intrude on its quiet dominion. The fallen branch nearby seemed almost staged, like part of an elaborate set designed to highlight the bird’s stark elegance. There was something theatrical about the way it surveyed its surroundings, each tilt of its head suggesting an unspoken commentary on the world it observed. I found myself wondering if it viewed me as an ally or merely another clumsy intruder in its well-ordered realm.