Over another Hump

Monday, September 21, 2009

Nature Walk

It's cooler now and tourists are travelling through seeking warmer climes.

I'm looking after my son's two dogs while he is property sitting further south. I haven't had them alone before and I'm not sure how they are in traffic so decide to walk down a newly graded back road near the billabong.

I scoot down the dusty path, dwarfed by four dogs on makeshift leads. They pull in all directions, each wants to claim the new territory, or follow a different scent. They plait the leads into unmanagable braids then proceed to leg rope meek-mannered Face.

Face, a mistreated refugee, sees the buck kangaroo first. It stands in a clump of gums, watches us and scratches his belly. A willy-wagtail flaps around his face, no doubt after mosquitoes. It seems to be a symbiotic relationship because I've seen this partnership before.

The dogs halt and, true to their different personalities, respond. Bandit, my other refugee from the pound, wants to be friends, Bella is bossy, wants him away from her territory, Tut just stands her ground and stares him down. Face wants to go home.

Red soil fades to dirty gray. The dust is softer here and tracks record some interesting travellers. I stop and examine a particular set of prints; long tail marks and dainty, birdlike feet attest to where a goanna or very large lizard had sunned. Nearby a large snake track, the width of my hand, weaves accross the road. Probably a diamond headed python or a king brown.

The grass is shoulder high so I pull the dogs in closer, they all want to follow the track and are annoyed that I won't allow it. Apart from the snake there is evidence of feral pigs around and that is definately something I don't want to confront, though Tut and Bella would love a chase.

Overhead the sun is warming the day and corellas claim the raintrees from the apostle birds. They croon as they harvest the dried seeds from big silver beans. It is a wonderful, soothing sound. So different from their usual harsh screech. I sit and enjoy them, ignoring the impatient dogs for a moment.

Then shake myself back to the moment, “Okay, guys. Time to head home.”

Friday, September 11, 2009

Moving on.

I can't believe that it is so long since I visited this site. Katie is still missed, she was such a part of our live, but when we went to collect her cage from the vet there were 3 little kittens looking for a home. We took them all. Our son took one and we kept the others.

Sadly Ken's kitten was poisoned, along with his other cats, but ours continue to thrive and give both our dogs, and us, continual joy. The incident below happened at the beginning of the week.

Under the Fiddlewood Tree. (c) F. Mackay 09-09-09.

Leaves litter dry earth under the fiddlewood tree

crisp challenges to any fussy feline.

My cats prance and pussyfoot through

neat piles, freshly raked,

chasing not so imaginary snakes.

In drifts,delaying, playing pretend slaying .

I sit and watch. Rake them from danger

until the heavies join the game.

Released from back yard confines

two black and white dogs of different size and nature

nose their friends and

the chase is on.

Around and round the fiddlewood

snake forgotten, my neat piles scatter,

my mornings work blown by four furry furies.

Resigned, I rest and enjoy the play.

Four friends and me

under my fiddlewood tree.
Damned if I can get a poem printed successfully on this blog!!!