Kookaburra in the old gum tree

Is there any image more Australian than the sight of a kookaburra in the old gum tree? 

Most days the maniacal laughter of resident kookaburras echoes across the landscape making me wonder how the early settlers thought when they first heard the unusual, and loud, call of the kookaburra.  Surely their first thoughts would have been that they were indeed going crazy or that some unknown person were in the bush intent on scaring the living daylights out of them.

Living in the country affords us the opportunity to observe the antics of many varieties of bird life.  Admittedly the kookaburra is mainly an early morning bird [who needs an alarm clock?] or a dusk bird, but occasionally its laughter flits across the air waves reminding us of its presence, and announcing to all that 'this is my territory'. 

Late yesterday afternoon a kookaburra laughed just outside the house;  I looked.  Not just one, but two of these birds of the kingfisher family, hurried to grab the camera and was lucky enough to capture two on film.

What is it?

This morning I had a find!  Wandering back from switching the water pump on my eyes were drawn to what, initally, looked like a plant, but not a plant I had ever seen.  I walked closer.  No, it was not a plant.  I called My Other Half and he said it was a creature [he picked it up!  I like to look, not touch!]  Back to the house for the camera ... and a few photos of what could be a winged praying mantis, but I am not sure. 

This creature was quite large and I know I would have screamed had it flew into me in the dark of night!  Most likely I would have yelped had it flew towards me in the light of day as well. 

Whatever it is the wings are spectacular, delicate gossamer and such a pretty shade of pink. 

Can you identify this 'creature'?

Thanks to Robyn for a reply:  In reply to her reply I add two more photos [the deceased mantis lies in a shoe box in the refrigerator].

I tried to capture a close-up of the head ... and while I could clearly see a row of teeth !!!! when looking at it, photographing that was not so easy.

Red Tailed Black Cockatoo

Winter has arrived.  After almost a week of welcome light rain that has turned the countryside from wizened dry vegetation into a carpet of wonderful green, the creatures in the mid-west show their appreciation.

Yesterday was a bird day.  Cockatoos whirled, landed on the tops of dead gum trees that are a favourite site, because the lack of leaves allow the bird to take off unencumbered with the clear risk of crashing their long wings into branches.  I watched as they called to each other, one pair circling and screeching ... was that a courtship? 

Eventually common sense arrived and I decided to take some photos.  It is not easy to get a photo of the red tails.  I only have a small digital camera and stand paused to 'click' at the critical moment.  Sometimes this means 'click', 'click', 'click' one after the other.  Sneaking up quietly for a closer view has its downside ... one step too far and the flock takes off ~ photo opportunity lost!  However, perserverance prevailed!

Cockatoo V Galah

Early one morning last week, as the wind whirled and whistled through the gum trees, my attention was drawn to noisy birds. We have many gum trees, several wattle trees, and a few dead gums with their barren grey branches reaching nakedly towards the sky. Usually the dead branches at the very tops of the gum trees are empty, apart from early morning when the red-tailed black cockatoos perch to greet the day. Feathers occasionally drop from their red tails and a hunt in the long grass will offer up a treasure of a feather, distinctive and bright, lying amongst the dry undergrowth.

This particular morning the screeching did not come from the red-tailed black cockatoos; instead the pink and grey galahs had taken over ownership of the dead branches. Poor black cockatoos circled and whirled, eventually settling on different branches several metres away. The two following days saw the same pattern repeated, but this morning the red-tailed black cockatoos had once again resumed ownership of their tree.

The photo shows the galahs in the tree tops.

Taxi!

Some creatures on this earth are beautiful, some downright ugly, some delightful and some scary. Spiders fit into the last category, though I do know that spiders may only be scary to a few ... I am one of the few!

Until I came to Australia spiders were mainly only seen outdoors and none, apart from the Katipo which I have never seen, were harmless. The Katipo I suspect is a first cousin to the Red-back spider in Australia and perhaps the Black Widow is of the same genre. As you may guess I try not to study the habits, or the varieties of spiders! Too often spiders form part of my day in the mid-west of Australia; some I ignore, others I scream loud and long enough for My Man to come to the rescue.

My last encounter did however grab my attention. My Man was sitting outdoors under the verandah; I was indoors knitting. Sounds a boring type of late afternoon doesn't it?

My Man called out, "Your friend is out here."

"Pardon?" Well my hearing does leave a little to be desired especially if I am not really expecting conversation.

"Your friend!"

I decided to go out and take a look. There on a rubber mat, half hidden from my view by a chain, sat, or stood [how does one tell?] a rather large spider. I resisted the temptation to cry out. It was a huntsman and rather large ... [a ball point pen is to its left in the photo ... carefully placed there for a size comparison].

My Man commented on the unusual lumps on its body. Quite frankly I hadn't taken that close a look! A glance had told me it was a spider; there was no more I needed to know. He poked at it with a piece of wood and it jumped/dropped/fell to the concrete. It was then I noticed a large number of what at first I thought were ants rushing from the accident scene. I looked again. Ants do not moved like that! A closer look told me the little creatures were baby spiders. It was then I remembered that somewhere, sometime, I had read spiders carry their young on their back. I know that to be a truth! Junior spider uses a parent as a taxi.

Roo Highway

This planet, viewed from above, must appear as a series of highways. I wonder what extra-terrestrials, if they exist, must think when they see the criss-crossing of roads and tracks, some leading to the city, others out of the city, and many simply tracks to scattered homesteads. I know that map reading is not the easiest! It's OK if we are on country roads, but city streets ... no way! I leave navigating to the driver; it is easier on my nerves.

Today we drove to an air show choosing to take the byways instead of the highways where traffic is invariably always in a rush. Admittedly the byways are seldom tarsealed but one gets used to hanging on to the bar placed in front of passengers who have travelled on sealed roads.

Not far from our venue we stopped; it was coffee and biscuit time; not an essential stop I know, but after rising early and breakfasting as the sun rose, I deemed it desirable to indulge in a sugar hit.

To our left My Man pointed out the 'Roo Highway'. I did stare blankly for one moment until it dawned exactly what he had said. I looked out.

A distinct track led down the berm, a roll of fur on the bottom wire of the fence showed that a kangaroo had pushed its way under the fence line. Initially I assumed kangaroos jumped a fence! However the evidence pointed to the truth. Across the road three different tracks down the slope merged before the Roo Highway.

Had we been earlier we may have witnessed kangaroos crossing their highway as they headed to the thicker ground-cover down the hillside.

What was that?

The weather is cooler making life in the Mid-West enjoyable again. Once the almost unbearable humidty left our shores the habit of carrying a hand towel all day just to wipe excessive perspiration is no longer necessary.

The creatures of a stifling summer have departed. Little gnats that managed to find a small entrance indoors to congregate around the light bulbs have diminished. An outside light left on all night did help to redirect them outdoors! Moths crashing into the glass door have found other places, or perhaps our adult tawny frog-mouths have devoured them.

After a long hot dry summer when dust and wind were the order of the day, a couple of small showers [Yes ... RAIN, if one can call the almost 2mls of water in the rain gauge rain] brought to light other creatures. Australia is a land of creatures!

Yesterday as I dropped momentarily into the armchair I happened to glance downwards. There, near the edge of the mat a creature with what seemed a million legs, lay quietly. I didn't scream! [Now had it been a mouse I may have!] I looked closely. A centipede, or a millipede ... I am not sure which is which ... carefully camoflaged by the mat, lay on its back. Something had caused its demise; for which I was thankful. My task was simple ... tell Dave to put it outdoors. He obliged ... just imagine if one had to knit little socks for such a creature!