Nature's Place

Was a little shy to begin with, presenting only a shot from the rear at first. Quietly does it, take what comes …

Only sensation, calm established, no alarming events in his little mind to relate as I come side-on. Aiming for profile …

Angle a little better, background still too dark and empty, but looking more his elegant self. Character emerging …

Communication established, an absence of the force of movement keeps the peace. The basis for introductions …

That’s better, a relaxed fly doing some preening exercises, indicates he’s focused within and likely to remain so a while.

Probably a good time to maneuver for the shot I want. Getting there in increments – move, frame, shoot, maneuver …

And there we are, more or less. A background window of blue sky comes into frame and he’s in his element. Little beauty …

Bug on a seedpod in the local bush, always found on this same plant, protected by design.

Hopper of a kind. Fell from a tree in the wild garden onto my arm, a forest of another kind.

I leave butterfly’s to lay in the garden, even growing greenery just for them. And some days the place is full of new ones.

The witchitty grubs are getting at the roots of the butterfly bush plants, but still enough flowering for these tiny midges.

Another bug caught at a meal of pollen. Messy table manners, but also a way to carry a little food for later.

Another little hopper from the garden. They all have their season, coming and going according to conditions only they know.

Called a soldier fly I think, resting on the fridge outdoors downstairs. It’s interesting the creatures that come and go.

A wasp I believe, though haven’t seen it before this summer. Hanging around the orange tail resin bee hotel – lovely blue eyes.

The one blue banded bee, it slept in the same spot for two months then disappeared one night. Such is life, and death …

Sleepy fly on a herb seed pod in the nighttime garden.

Hungry fly, waiting by my lunch on the table on the veranda.

Came into the open bathroom at night, confused by the light.

Wandered around the stick a while and at one point …

… ended upside down on the floor. One confused fly, until I turned out the light.

And where there’s flies … come into my arms dear juicy one. … The garden is awash with webs in the morning, always walking into them.

The soft fruit and veg farmers favourite, fruit fly. … Guaranteed to devastate any crop but here enjoying the spent dew soaked butterfly bush flowers.

Can’t keep a good fruit fly down. Too dry for them now though, and nothing fresh in the garden to easily eat, yet. Pawpaw on the way.

After the possum feed the cockroaches (and rodents) get the crumbs. The geckos know this and get a few cockroaches, then leave little presents for the flies inclined to so feast.

Geckos leave a distinct signature, a white tip to their presents. It’s how the flies know where it came from … well, I know.

And this little fellow, all of 6mm long must be, on the bonsai moreton bay fig tree. Could barely see it unmoving, and then it was gone. Only on the mini fig tree.

Rainbow Lorikeet enjoying a few crumbs in the front garden after a night in the Jacaranda.

They will call out when they are hungry, knowing there is food to be had here at times.

And that is most I see them, with so little rain to water their usual feeding grounds.

And the Noisy Minah, a local character with a demanding way, as she swoops on my head.

Clack, clack, clacking her orders at me. Sometimes touching my hair as she goes.

For a little food, for her and her young. We know each other over generations now.

Just getting on with the business of living in this hot country of Australia.

No surprise to see what comes, it being the only ‘wet’ garden hereabouts. Oasis in an urban desert where people still cut down trees and rip out mature bushes – habitat and food sources.

The ‘season’ so far is hot and dry and summer has only just begun. Bushfires already in full swing, affected people doing their best with it.

I am inclined to make room for any creatures that appear but there are conditions in a small finite space. … All must abide if it’s to survive.