During our recent hot, humid, hazy weather, I have noticed that the best time of day to take photos of the valley is either first thing in the morning – before the valley begins to look hazy – or later in the day – after the haze has been burnt off and replaced by a sunset. Caught up as I am in the mornings though, feeding both my domestic menagerie and the local birds, (oh, and myself!) I tend to forget to take photos of the mountain in the morning. When the camera is out, it’s to take photos of my feathered visitors, such as this friendly kookaburra, sitting right beside my window.
Hmm, I wonder if that stare is a method of emotional blackmail for more food? 😉
Tonight, although it is yet another sunset photo, at least it’s a differently coloured sunset than last night. And I will try to remember to take a morning photo tomorrow. 🙂
Before 7:00am this morning I had a kookaburra waiting outside my kitchen window for breakfast. Husband left for work early, so my day began about an hour earlier. I had already given the pot plants a watering and finished a few chores around the house when kookie arrived, and when I went out with his meat, the magpie family arrived too.
Moments after I went outside, there was a huge thunderclap in the valley, and a few spits of rain suggested an approaching storm. A quick downfall, accompanied by several more loud crack of nearby thunder though, and it was all over.
Petunias waiting to be planted.
By 9:00am, I was heading out to spend a few hours Christmas shopping with my daughter. We had a lovely morning, and met up with my other daughter and her two-year-old, Aurora, for morning tea. Aurora’s other Nana joined us for coffee as well, and met my baby grandson, Eli, for the first time.
Last years Gazanias, still looking happy, regardless of our excessive early summer heat.
I may have finished my Christmas shopping now. Hopefully I have, as the only reason I want to go to the shops now is to buy food.
Later this afternoon, the threatened morning storm arrived in earnest, with thunder, and heavy rain. After the storm passed, husband checked the rain guage, and found that we’d had 20ml. of rain in about half an hour.
I hadn’t expected any amazing sunset colour-show in the valley after seeing the amount of white mist that had rolled in with the storm. Half way through cooking dinner though, this is what I saw –
The sky lit up in orange-red hues, the mist had disappeared, and the valley made her magical early evening offering yet again. ❤
After a dull weather morning, the light in the garden this afternoon had a magical quality that I couldn’t resist. Everywhere I looked, the birds, trees, flowers, valley, sky, just everything begged to have its photo taken. In all, I took eighty photos. Here are just a few …
A different view of the mountain, framed by surrounding trees.
First red frangipani.
I may have mentioned before that I have rather a lot of potted plants now, brought home from my inlaw’s garden after they both went into aged care last year. Some of the potted frangipani trees are so young that they didn’t flower last summer, so I have been waiting with bated breath to find out what colours I have. When I watered the pots this morning there were no flowers, but by this afternoon, one red flower had appeared!
Pink Allamanda.
Mature Farngipani.
My mature frangipani tree, which has been growing near the pool for several years, is now well covered in bunches of gorgeous blooms. Here is just half of the tree –
A well established frangipani tree is a beautiful addition to a subtropical garden, which is why I am looking forward to planting some of the small potted frangipani next winter. Hopefully by then I will know what colour the flowers will be on all of the trees which will help me to decide where to plant them in my garden.
Naughty Forrest!
Forrest took complete advantage of my lack of attention to her, taking the opportunity to chew up one of her toys while Bronte watched … look at that innocent face – butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth – right? 😉
After quite a while – three weeks? four maybe? I awoke this morning to signs of rain.
Exhibit A – One drenched kookaburra atop a wet glass balustrade –
Exhibit B – Little Hoppy, my butcher bird with one gammy leg, waiting in the dryness of my back veranda for breakfast –
Exhibit C – My yellow and white frangipani, growing close enough to the house to allow me to take a photo without going out into the rain, with tiny beads of moisture captured on the leaves –
Later, baby magpie visited. The rain was light but consistent, and by the looks of the baby’s dry feathers, I think he may have hidden himself away amid tree foliage to escape the unfamiliar (to him) sight of rain –
And finally, Mount Warning. Just kidding. 😉 Actually, there was no sight of the mountain today, it was hidden behind the rainclouds. 🙂
If I could bottle up the sea breeze I would take it over to your house
And pour it loose through your garden
So the hinges on your windows would rust and colour
Like the boats pulled up on the sand for the summer
And your sweet clean clothes would go stiff on the line
And there’d be sand in your pockets and nothing on your mind ~ Josh Pyke.
Summer wasn’t shy today about letting us know it had arrived. At 31°C and 88 percent humidity, it felt like the middle of summer and not the first day. Tomorrow’s prediction is for 35°C (95°F).
Regardless of the weather, I had a very special visitor today, my daughter Emma and her three-and-a-half month old son, Eli. Today, Emma turned 28. I apologise profusely every year for having her at such a hot time of year, which also happens to be the month of Christmas so her birthday can easily be overshadowed by another significant event. This birthday though, as Emma is now a mother herself and realises the futility of my tongue-in-cheek comment, we agreed that babies usually arrive on the day of their choice.
After Emma and Eli headed home, I spent some time Christmas gift shopping online. Even though Australia is travelling incredibly well Covid-wise, I’m still a bit of a scaredy-cat about spending time in crowds. Perhaps more to the point, it saves me time to shop online when I’m still sorting, cleaning, tidying and decluttering my house.
Maggie in a Tizz.
During the afternoon I heard a commotion out in the front garden. Noisy Miner birds – who are named “noisy” for a reason! – were kicking up a ruckus in the tree at the top of our garden, their squawks intermittently interrupted by the sound of a distressed Magpie.
I tried to ignore the noise, but it got the better of me. Even the two dogs sprawled out beside me got up and peered out the door, as if investigating the situation. The dogs know, just as I do, that magpies and miners are friends. If a miner carries on a treat as they were doing today, there’s a threat. I imagined one of the neighbours cats may be lurking around the tree.
Ignoring the noise wasn’t working for me, so I ignored the heat instead, and trudged to the top of the hill to investigate. Whatever the threat was, it seemed to be in the tree, which meant it could be a snake wrapped around a high branch sheltering from the heat of the day.
This is what I found –
A Pee Wee!
We occasionally see Magpie Larks in the garden, and I have noticed recently we have one dropping into the back garden each morning after the other birds have finished eating the food I give them. Magpie Larks are another native Australian bird, affectionately known as Pee Wees. They have a very pretty song and seem completely harmless, so goodness knows why the magpies objected so much to the visit. Maybe the magpie family feel that they “own” my yard, and the tree being in our yard belongs to them.
Satisfied that one tiny pee wee posed no threat to my lovely magpie family, I paused to take a photo of Mount Warning, which could be seen today, although not as clearly visible as it could be (first photo).
Later tonight at around sunset, I took another photo of the mountain. Dark patches of cloud had rolled in, and we didn’t see the beautiful orange sunset sky we have had lately.
The opening words of today’s post are song lyrics from Josh Pyke, an Australian singer, whose creativity with words conjures images of immense beauty when describing the most mundane moments of everyday life. This song is called The Summer, so very appropriate for today. I love this song as the words romanticise the one season of the year that I struggle to cope with. For anyone interested, here’s the rest of the lyrics to The Summer ~
But every year it gets a little bit harder
To get back to the feeling of when we were fifteen
And we could jump in the river upstream
And let the current carry us to the beginning where
The river met the sea again
And all our days were a sun-drenched haze
While the salt spray crusted on the window panes
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
And I’ll remember that summer as the right one
The storms made the pavement steam like a kettle
And our first goodbye always seemed like hours
In the car park in between my house and yours
And if the summer holds a song we might sing forever
The winter holds a bite we’d never felt before
But time is like the ocean
You can only hold a little in your hands
So we swim before we’re broken
Before our bones become
Black coral on the sand
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
We should be living like we lived that summer
I wanna live like we live in the summer
So if I could bottle up the sea breeze I would take it over to your house
And pour it loose through your garden ~ Josh Pyke.
In My World 