Wildlife

 I turn into another person when I come down here, for one, because I become a little more aware of the flora and fauna. Gone are the strange people of Elizabeth Street, replaced with real animals. Animals I'm not used to seeing. Indigenous stock. 

The first animal I'm keeping my eyes open for is snakes. I hate snakes. Thankfully, with the amount of traffic around this place, they are rarely seen, but I'm on the lookout for them. I wear Birkenstocks everywhere. The last thing I want is the fang of a red-belly black or Eastern Brown through my foot. 

Fingers crossed they stay away.

Last night I headed down to the house for dinner. Staying in the granny flat with the cat is wonderful, but it's a trek down the hill and through the shed to get to the house. 

I was greeted by another member of the Myponga community. 

Skippy. 

I'm not sure who was more startled. Me, or the couple of kangaroos grazing in the paddock. 

I love these guys. They're nothing to be frightened of. If you keep quiet and move slowly, they will hang around and you can commune with them for a while. Make loud noises and they run away.

This is one of the best bits of coming down here. What this photo doesn't show is the joey who went and hid in the rose bushes as I approached. The roos happily co-exist with the humans. They look you in the eye and tell you that you're on their land. By acknowledging them, saying that you for letting you stay, they continue to hang around. Long may this remain. 

There's also the bird life you see from the many windows. My step-dad's a bit of a twitcher and can identify pretty much any bird that passes by. We were treated to a flock of Rosella's eating the chooks' wheat this morning after a number of honeyeaters stopped to eat at the one of the many agapanthuses. If you're really lucky you might spot a wedged tailed eagle. They're rare, but they are magnificent. 

And the mouse like creates you see aren't mice - they're antechinuses - a small marsupial rat. The special bit is that they are marsupials. That they carry their young in pouch is pretty cool, even if they do look a bit like mice. Mum's cat, Bart, would love to eat one. Thankfully he doesn't go outside. 

Speaking of cats, this morning, as I once again went down the hill, this time with a ball of washing tucked under my arm, (Mum offered, who am I to say no? She washes most days, so it's no drama.) a cat zipped across my path. A glorious little calico arrangement, heading out from the shed, where the chooks were fossicking about, out into the bushes. It was probably dumped, unfortunately. If it doesn't meet a bullet from a local farmer, it will go feral. Which is very sad, both for the local wildlife and the cats, which are often dumped in the local bushland by people who never should have got a cat in the first place. I find out later, this one belongs to the next-door neighbour. Thankfully, their cats have been spayed. I'll leave my thoughts on people who don't do this to myself. 

My cat, Lucifer, is living the life of Riley here in the granny flat. He's happy munching on Mum's pot plants, sleeping on his mat placed in one of the lounge chairs and watching the birds and butterflies out the window. 

Tough life, eh?

Today's song: