Peggy Dover

The vultures have landed.

Those who have followed my scribblings for lo, these many years are painfully aware that several of the genus Cathartes Aura, or “purifying breeze,” call my evergreens their home during their vacay in the valley.

The neighbors and I anticipate their great, shadowy figures zeroing in on my yard each spring. It’s a sure sign, though there are always those overachiever types who drift in earlier than inclement weather affords. I call them the party planners, the ones who scope out the scene before the gang’s all here.

Lately I’ve heard some uncharacteristic clucking and whining going on. Apparently they didn’t get the memo from Phil in Pennsylvania. They’ve been checking their calendars and blaming each other for a miscue. Snow is hiding all the good stuff. Here it is nearly noon, and they’re still lollygagging around in that tree, drawing straws to see who has to go out.

This talk of errant vultures caused my mind to wander (to and fro) to another hapless victim of his own misguidance — Don Quixote de la Mancha, or who he really was when he was at home, Alonso Quijano, the ordinary.

My friend Toni and I recently enjoyed a rompish and thought-provoking evening at the Collaborative Theater in Medford, where 13 or so hombres y mujeres took the stage to transport us to the land of giants, evil knights and interesting livestock.

Good-hearted Alonso’s mistake is reading too many books about chivalry and adventure. His desire to achieve otherworldly heights drives him temporarily insane, like a lot of us. The man becomes a don, a “caballero de triste figura,” knight of the sad figure and of his own making.

He mistakes the ordinary for dragons to be vanquished. His friends, at first playing along for enjoyment, eventually try to warn him that he’s gone over the edge — even his affable and roundly roughed-up sidekick, Sancho Panza, played convincingly by Steven Dominguez.

The sorry aspect of Don Quixote is perfectly portrayed by Ric Hagerman. The number of lines the man had to learn should win him a genuine gold helmet instead of a barber’s bowl for a head covering and maybe the heart and hand of Dulcinea, his elusive love. Though this play is longer than average, it’s not too long. I didn’t catch myself leaning toward the exit door. Each scene demands full attention with a large cast of colorful characters.

As serious as all this sounds, and it’s quite serious to the don, we laughed far more than we wept. Any play that keeps the funny bone awake gets an A-plus in my gradebook.

Particularly satisfying are the many highly talented Hispanic actors who lend validation to the tale. I hope to see more of them. The occasional lines spoken in Spanish enhance the sense of place in a quaint Spanish village.

Miguel de Cervantes, author of the play and a contemporary of Shakespeare, is a character in the background onstage and perfectly played by Tyler Jack Ward Lemons. We get to watch him watch his characters — his children. He keeps a careful eye over them, adding subtle reactions to their fates and follies.

Another cast favorite is Shannon Veon Kase as the housekeeper and actor 11. I’ve seen her perform before, and casting her in nearly any play would make me buy a ticket. Mozart Pierson as the landlord and actor number 7 is fun to watch. Plus, with a name like Mozart, I mean. … I should also mention the adorable Brooklyn Williams who played Dorotea and actor 9. She’s convincing as the unconvincing princess. You’ll have to see it.

The superb acting plays out to the occasional delicate strains of live flamenco music from the talented Grant Ruiz. His guitar adds another layer of passion and authenticity to the story.

There are four performances remaining this Thursday through Sunday. I highly recommend this one for all live theater lovers, because it’s definitely lively.