Rain

Rain. Lots. And not too heavy to overflow the spouting because of leaves blocking down pipes. I have cleared the down pipes a couple of times this summer but not for perhaps 4 weeks. I was worried there'd be enough leaves fallen lately to cause a problem, as the eucys constantly shed leaves in the heatwaves. So far so good, but the sound of rain on the roof seems to be louder now.

When the spouting overflows it falls on our deck between the spout and the veranda roof, in copious quantity, wetting the dogs bedding and anything else that may be there. As diligent as I am I get caught out sometimes. The hot dry weather makes me busy watering and short of time. The clearing of leaves from the down pipes and gutters is one of those things often put off till the next day, repeatedly, and after a long hot dry spell a storm can come quickly often bringing a torrential downpour which may only last 5 or 10 minutes but that is enough sometimes to punish the house dwellers and he who is responsible for such maintenance.

Mind you, sometimes the huge volume of water that can fall  in a few minutes is too great for the spouting and down pipes no matter if they are clean of leaves. On these occasions the worry is not really a bit of wet furniture and bedding on the deck but ground surface water that cascades where it shouldn't due to the build up of leaf litter that blocks normal flow and sends water in unexpected directions. This is not uncommon, and such deluge results in driveways and roads being washed out. Indeed in that big rain in Feb some years ago friends of mine (Hi Bill and Paula, if you still read) had water go through their entire house as it came down the hill behind their house when drains in the road above them blocked and redirected storm water straight in the direction of their back door.

I just went out to check, all is OK, there's the lovely sound of water falling into the near empty tanks.

I'm going to bed.

Atop the Mop

I hear twittering outside our bedroom window in the early morning. This is not unusual; we have three tree ferns along the back of the house which is the south side. I have pot plants in the semi shade under the ferns and in this hot and dry summer we are enduring I water the plants daily or they would perish. This creates a moist gully effect along the shady path and a refuge for small birds from the brutal heat and parched garden, only metres away, which is exposed to full sun and receives no water if it does not rain.

On this day of writing in the depths of February, I am tired of what is possibly the hottest summer I can recall in the 32 years we have lived here. The air is filled with smoke drifted in from distant bushfires and every leaf and twig crunches underfoot, dried brittle to tinder. Trees are shedding leaves and branches drooping, the roadsides are adorned with dropped twigs and even limbs as they crack and dry to snapping point. My friends in the garden fraternity look weary and haggard after many weeks watering special plants and rueing those they can’t, and watching their gardens shrivel after heatwaves and little if any rain. Not for faint hearts.

So it was great inspiration I received today when I saw a bird’s nest built on top of a mop resting on a wall outside our window under the ferns. I showed brother Jod a photo of it, he says it’s a White-browed Scrubwren’s nest. These brave little creatures, even if it were a sparrow nest, are making use of the shade and moisture and their nest building is a symbol of the resilience and optimism of nature.

I’ll be cautiously watching the nest over the coming weeks.

 

   

Seven Magpies

A cool change came in on Sunday, about mid afternoon. The temperature dropped from 40C to 32C in quick time. Not much of a change but welcome after the pig of a day that Saturday was. No rain though. It cooled right down last night and it was lovely this morning. Then the sun flexed its muscles a bit and it became unpleasant with a dry blustery wind, not hot, but uncomfortable. The was a lot of bushfire smoke for a while before the wind came up and took it away.

I got to the farm about mid afternoon after a busy day potting on plants to bigger pots to make them easier to water, interviewing for Signpost, and picking some rosemary. Gord and I bought a big salad roll each and had a late lunch before going down the hill with the big ladder to pick some green beech from the last tree that hadn't been picked hard. It was not good quality but the customer was so insistent with the approach of Valentine's Day that I picked it for her as I wanted the tree reduced.

While I ate a magpie came down so threw it a small piece of bread roll and within a minute or two there were seven competing for my offerings. They really are a beautiful bird up close and I enjoyed having them share my lunch. They have been around the house there for some weeks following Meredith about. She takes some old bread with her in her picking box and feeds her blackbirds and others that know her and follow, and now the maggies have joined in.

The yellow tailed black cockies have been about too and of course the screeching sulphur crested devils. but the maggies were my highlight.

Huntsman and Bug

I have not done my morning walk much recently, for a few reasons, but I did today. As I walked up Quinn Rd at the narrow part a car came the other way so I called the the dogs and held them till the car passed, but it didn't, it stopped and the lady inside, Dianne whom I have got to know as I walk past her house and see her walking also, wound the window down and asked me did I know who owned the paddock on the other side of the one full of big bales to our west, the paddock immediately to the north of the Puffing Billy line.

She had been walking there a little while ago with her grandson, along the railway line, when a noisy incident drew her attention. A bull fight no less. The bigger bull had knocked the smaller one down and was butting it and rolling it down the hill toward the dam while stopping now and again to lift up its forequarters and stomp on the poor hapless creature that was destined to die. Dianne was upset. I thought I knew who owned the land and she continued on to advise the farmer, although it was probably too late to affect the outcome.

Lib went to work and bought drinkable ice for the oldies at the nursing home. It wasn't a work day, no pay, she just did it because of the extreme heat we are enduring, and she cares for the oldies. I watered around home, then went to Nobelius Park to water things that have been planted in the last twelve months, as I have done every day for a couple of weeks. The whole thing is tiring, but what can you say? Australia is a hot dry place for much of the time. I watered at Hanna's on my way home and did a few little things I'd been itching to do at home before hitting the bathtub and then enjoying a delightful roast chook cooked in the crocky outside.

We were watching some crap on TV, there were numerous bugs flying about, and I noticed a big one on the wall near my left shoulder. I ignored it with the thought that this is all part of summer. Fortunately the movie 'Castaway' came on the satellite so i settled back to enjoy. I reckon that is a great movie.

Gord alerted me to another show going on, on the wall to my left shoulder where the big bug had settled. A Huntsman spider had come down from behind a mural, a big one about 1500 by 1500 that Lib brought back from Peru, and seized it by the abdomen. The bug kicked an fought, its long antennae in particular thrashing about. The spider had seven of its eight legs bracing on the wall, the other sticking up in the air, and had the bug seemingly in ts mouth, with what looked like small mandibles, extra to its legs, clamping down on it.

Slowly but surely, over about 45 minutes, the spider moved its grip up to the neck of the bug and it eventually ceased struggling and was immobile. The spider then took it up under the mural.

Nature is riveting.