Nature's Place

She’s a little beauty. And though small, she does command respect – fear doesn’t help. It would be a different world with more respect about.

She’s only as thick as a thumb, or a clothes peg. As she investigated under my plant potting table.

Left to her self, with respect, she just went about her business and went on her way. Only when we disrespect, inject our ill nature, does nature reflect it and react adversely.

This is what respect looks like, of a fledgling for a wizened old snake. :-) … Still finding its presence but still enough respect.

On the tiles on the veranda, at my feet. A perfectly normal looking female blue banded bee, wings working fine. I thought. It’s not uncommon for new born BBB’s to falter at first flight.

After I gave her a finger to climb on she wandered about until she tried to fit into the nook between my fingers. It seemed she just wanted to go back to sleep.

But not for long. Soon she was exploring again. This time she thought it a good idea to grip my finger between her mandibles and that way go to sleep – how they do it.

But sleep wasn’t on the agenda, not really. So I introduced her to the zinnia I have growing in the garden, and she took to it like a duck to water. No, no, like a bee to a flower.

After she had her fill of the zinnia I introduced her to the butterfly bush and she couldn’t help herself, wandering all about the wonderful scent, tasting the little pots of nectar as she went.

Yum … doesn’t she look satisfied. Just taking a break from her first born encounter with the beautiful nature of the flowers she feeds on, and that went to nourishing her into existence.

And then she’d had enough, time to sleep at last. But not quite getting the knack of it yet, though instinctively she knew to grip something thin enough she could lock onto for the coming night.

Getting there, almost done … Time to sleep, to rest, to rise again in the morning and go to work in the garden and do what she was designed for, intelligently.

Sun fading now, got a good grip on the edge of the butterfly bush leaf. All the better to wake in the morning, close to breakfast and a new day, a new life. New born BBB.

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.