Nature Notes ~ The Urge to Reproduce

Springtime engenders thoughts of love or at least of continuing

the species. This friendly huntsman female, resident in my

bedroom, is heavy with young. Soon she will produce more than

100 live babies as small as pin heads and will expire. Her life's

work will be done and I shall miss her protective presence.

To all those of you who worry about my huntsman in the

bedroom: huntsmen do not spin webs, just as their name

suggests, they hunt.They are fast runners and can jump 1'

in any direction on a vertical wall. I have had one run across

my face as i slept which was not particularly pleasant but at

least I had no mosquito bite that night. One must be grateful

for small mercies!

The swallows in my yet to be studio are sitting on eggs but

this one at a friend's place is busy reinforcing her nest from

last year

while this cheeky starling is gathering material to augment

his/hers.

In my mountain garden I came upon this little family tidying

up my gravel yard.

Look ma, she's looking at us . . .

never mind dear, she's all right, probably out to smell the roses.

I'll just nip off while ma's not looking . . .

oooh, its scary out there in the bush by yourself . . .

I wasn't really scared, the milk bar is open, I only came back

for a drink.

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Home Alone

Here I sit in solitary state, like Rapunzel in her tower or the
Lady of Shalott. The Prof is still away and a whopping great
limb of a river redgum that fell from heat exhaustin across
my driveway, is as effective in keeping me grounded as the
Great Wall of China.
Do I feel lonely and neglected? Not a bit.
My trusty and very pregnant huntsman protects me from
small biting flying beasties.


















These little painted finches that my eldest granddaughter gave
me as a parting gift when she left to take up employment in our
Natinal Capital, cheer me with their chatter.


















This young blue tongue lizard peeking out from under the BBQ
eradicates any creepy crawleys at ground level and my ancient
21 year old black Millie cat makes sure I sit a lot so she can curl
up on my lap


















and while the grapes last on the vine, so do the daily visits from
my younger granddaugter.

In fact, I live like, as the Germans say "Gott in Frankreich" or
God in France, a saying that survives from the time of Louis XIV
the sun king. My culinary wants are supplied by darling daughter
carting anything my pantry or fridge may lack as "meals on heels"
up the hill to my tower.


















When the day fades into dusk, the whole troup assemble up
here for G's&T and the mandatory hilarity supplied by courtesy
of No.1 grandson.

As you can tell, this Rapunzel is making the best of her situation
and most certainly needs no rescuing and at times has more
company than strictly necessary as the pre dawn visit of the
tame steer who pruned my roses, grazed the strawberries as well
as the new row of potatoes and the sheep I noticed gazing longingly
through the fence at the green in the garden when her paddodck
was dry and sere. Next day she became pot valiant in the company
of a friend and broke in only to be instantly deported to the other
side of the fence.

Certainly no time to catch cabin fever.... I am truly blessed.