Nature's Place

Nasturtium in the dying light of the day, reflected. As we reflect, on what’s of value perhaps.

Local wallaby, a frequent visitor to the garden, enjoys a drink of clean water. A little shy still.

Young water dragon at Kate’s place. Included after Kate spotted a younger on here, but I didn’t get a shot.

The zinnia are doing very well lately. Shooting up and presenting many colours and shades for our viewing – sensible – pleasure.

Blue faced honey eater and a noisy myna reflecting on their reflections, or each other, but no animosity, just unassuming self expression.

Drops of water being loosed from her feathers. They dive into the water and often take off very quickly, maybe it’s the vulnerability of being wet through that makes them wary at such times.

All images in this post are taken with a new (for me) camera. Just getting used to it …

Young pied magpie, those great warbling singers of the morning. Mother has been taking them around the place, teaching what she knows.

The birdbath is filled daily with fresh rain water from the tank. I think they know the difference and enjoy that. I know I would.

And the noisy myna, also a mum (or dad) watching over her babies below. Mums all love their babies, you know.

I know, feet not included. :-) … This a Stone Curlew mum and her chick, local inhabitants in the Redlands, near (enough) the water.

Waking up can be hard to do. A struggle until the art is perfected, by practise. But mum’s about to help as necessary.

They are not shy birds, nor are they domesticated. Independent creatures that keep much to themselves, even when living outside the kitchen window.

Getting closer … But always wary of danger to the chick. Raucous in their protest if they perceive their space is intruded upon.

Closer still, or I just zoomed in a bit more … The adult male stands about 2 feet tall. Wouldn’t risk that beak at close quarters. Nor would he, unless he had to.

Mantis, there’s a few around the garden helping in their way to keep the balance so the garden goes on. Preying …

Walking on water … The mother wolf spider carrying her brood. She couldn’t climb the side of the tray so I helped her along with a handy leaf.

Darkling beetle, a colourful fellow and carrying his own load – a few mites to be seen feeding on him. Such is life at times.

Drunken moth, imbibing at the fermenting orange. Apparently nature likes a drink now and again. Just not too much or you end up flying in circles.

It takes intelligence to be a flower. Wonderful colour and form, unfolding all its parts perfectly in this world of sense. As fine a creature as ever emerged from the primal earth.

A beetle of some kind, I used to know the name, enjoying the pollen bounty in what I call the native crocus – another wonderful creature risen from the earth.

Mother in waiting. There’s many of these crab or ambush spiders amongst the flowers right now. Taking advantage of the many and varied creatures visiting daily and again. Every baby has to eat.

This beetle was in the huntsman’s deadly embrace when a second beetle came along, attracted to my torchlight, and blundered into the scene, causing the spider to take fright.

And then came back and grabbed the second beetle and took it to a safer place to subdue, up a bamboo stem, and hung there from two back legs while pumping venom into the prey.

What’s this, a head of some kind, in a kind of embrace. A Dragonfly’s head.

I saw the body first and thought it had been attacked by another dragonfly, they do that. But then found the head, just under the exposed fan blades. Two and two this time = 4.

Wasp taking a break from the hectic pace of life on the wing. They do rest when it’s needed.

Looks like a nosy fellow, ho ho. Trailing a human hair perhaps, uncaring. Pointedly sensing his position.

Just having fun on the red nasturtium, looking for a meal no doubt. Going about her little life.

Darkling climbing about the new begonia leaves. Maybe they are host to something nice to a hungry beetle.

A colourful fly. Sensitive to light you’ve got to be lucky to get a shot using pre-flash – on auto exposure.

Waiting for a meal to come visit. She made a home by folding leaves over her and waited for the buds to flower. Patient lady.

Another kind of creature, another place. No nook or cranny left uninhabited for long. The garden’s gypsy’s, living life on the fly, always doing their best.

Could be the Graceful Tree Frog. It’s 5 or 6 times the size of the other frogs I’ve been posting pix of, the Eastern Dwarf Tree Frog.

Have you noticed the little grey-blue on and around the frog? Springtails love living on the wet wood under the pot plants.

Click on this one and click again and you will see a small army of hitchhikers on the head. Tiny grey-blue springtails. They could be a working part of this one’s ecosystem.

She knew I was watching, and on one jump tried to hide behind a piece of wood. Not very hard though. I think she was curious too, hadn’t seen the likes of me before.

Sitting in the flowers under an open sky during the day, surrounded by trees with birds coming and going all day long. Brave frog.

During the night, a daytime frog is a very rare thing here. They climb around the place, usually after sitting still for long periods.

Each individual a unique character, discernible in the the way s/he presents. Posture, colouring, attitude, the complete and distinctive form.

Orange crucifix orchid beetle, loves to eat enough of the flowers to get her young going. Then leaves them to finish off, as far as I can tell.

The second such encounter with mating huntsman spiders – see a recent post, in the dead of night on the crucifix orchid. Same orientation, she’s above and he’s below ready to drop out of harms way, depositing his contribution to the species.

Surrounded in orange, or yellow, and loving it. It’s common to see insects with a piece missing, in this case a clawed foot. Tough world out there.

A searching posture, ready to jump perhaps. Who knows what they see, maybe the same as you and me – food and things. Except we have different diets I’m sure.

MC for the frog’s ball. Conducting the ceremonies with a zen like ease. Maybe … Or just sitting there, being a frog. Content in the absence of mental ‘issues’. No hangups from the past, or worries about the future. This is a here and now frog.

And the singer gets her chance to shine, or is it he … Soon after my seven frogs started to sing they all but disappeared. But they’ll be back …

Frog food? Maybe. But for now, and most of the time I see them, they are thoroughly enjoying the mold and fungus on the old lemon staked in the garden to attract the tiny weevils. Life is good …

One of the recent appearances, a harmless red wasp sleeping on the broad nasturtium leaves at night. One of the first of the many characters that have begun to make up the burgeoning population of the garden.