The Lacquered Legacy of the Brighton Parrot

Lacquering a wooden floor is a delicate process. It requires patience, precision, and—most importantly—a firm belief that nothing, absolutely nothing, should touch that pristine, freshly coated surface until it has properly dried.

That was the plan, at least. But plans rarely survive the Melbourne heat and an overly curious parrot.

The Job

It was a scorcher in Brighton, the kind of day where the asphalt shimmers and the air hangs thick like a heavy curtain. We had just finished lacquering the wooden floors in a beautiful old house, a home with history, character, and, as it turned out, a rather eccentric owner named Martin.

Martin was one of those clients who liked to be involved. Not in a bad way—he didn’t hover over our shoulders making ‘helpful’ suggestions—but he had a deep connection to his home. Every scratch on the floor told a story, every creak in the boards had a past. And so, when he decided it was time for the floors to shine again, he called us in.

After hours of careful sanding, wiping, and sweating in the brutal heat, we finally applied the lacquer. It went on smooth, transforming the scuffed timber into a gleaming masterpiece, reflecting the afternoon sun like a sheet of golden glass. It was perfect. Too perfect.

The Intruder

And then it happened.

Just as we stood back, admiring our work, a blur of green shot through the open patio door. A parrot. Not just any parrot—a Scaly-breasted Lorikeet, vibrant, chatty, and completely oblivious to the fact that we had just turned the floor into a no-landing zone.

It swooped low, hesitated mid-air as if considering its options, and then—before we could react—it landed.

Right in the middle of the lacquer.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a parrot realize it’s made a mistake, but it’s something special. There was a brief pause, a moment of avian contemplation, before it began pacing, its little claws leaving an elegant yet deeply unwanted pattern on the still-wet lacquer.

The horror.

The Aftermath

We scrambled to shoo it away, but the lorikeet had other ideas. In a final act of defiance, it flapped its wings and took off, leaving behind two perfect, ghostly wing imprints right in front of the television.

Silence.

Martin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, took a slow sip of his iced tea and said, “Well, that’s… unexpected.”

We were ready to fix it. We had plans—scrape it back, re-lacquer, make it right. But as the afternoon sun dipped lower, Martin just stood there, staring at the accidental masterpiece.

Then, with a chuckle, he shook his head and said, “Leave it.”

The Brighton Legacy

And so, we did. What was meant to be a flawlessly smooth floor now carried a story—a lacquered legacy of one bird’s bold adventure. Martin even named it: The Lorikeet Landing.

A week later, he sent us a photo. The floor had dried beautifully, and those delicate parrot prints were now a permanent feature of his home. He said his guests loved it, that it made the space unique.

So, if you ever visit a house in Brighton and see the outline of a bird’s wings on the wooden floor, know this—it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t by design, but it became a part of that home’s history.

And if you need your own wooden floors lacquered (hopefully without unexpected parrot interventions), you know who to call.

Procare Home Improvements—because even the best floors need a little personality.