A pungent sweetness pervades the air this morning as creamy-white blossoms adorn the Melaleucas or ‘paper barks’ near our balcony.
Rainbow Lorikeets chirp and chatter as they breakfast
on the beautiful blossoms.
Happily for photographers, there’s little camouflage
for Rainbow Lorikeets against the long, leathery leaves and
pale, brown branches of the massive, melaleuca.
Perspectives at Paronelle Park, North Queensland on a wet, wet day.
It rained ALL day, we used umbrellas ALL day…
and viewed the Grand Staircase
from different perspectives: up and down…
Looking up the stairs…
looking down the stairs
with visitors stepping very carefully…
See others’ interpretations of ‘Perspective’ here
It’s a bright and sunny morning
when ‘kookie’ comes a-calling.
He ad-mires the view…
and looks for a bug or two…
He spreads his left wing out,
he spreads his right wing out,
he ruffles back feathers out
and he shakes them all about,
He does the Hokey Pokey,
then kookaburra flies off again…
“Tennis anyone?” asks wallaby.
“I wonder who’ll show up for social tennis today?”
“That’s in. My game and set,” said wallaby.
See here for more fabulous photos about ‘juxtaposition’.
Leisurely Saturday. Revisit Palm Cove.
Walk along the jetty. Look over the sea to Double Island. Look back at the shoreline at the sand, sea and rocks.
What’s that? A white bird stands out against the dark rocks. Zoom in with my camera lens. See the white bird more clearly. A white heron?
A white bird with a fish in its beak. A largish fish but a long, thin beak on the bird. How did these two come together? Was the fish in the water? Did the white bird pierce the fish with its long sharp beak?
Was the fish dead in the water or on the sand and the white bird found it?
Did the fish drop from an osprey or hawk flying overhead?
Take more photos and watch … it looks like a big fish. Sometimes the bird has the fish in its beak. A free lunch. And a solitary lunch, except for us watching from the jetty…
Sometimes the bird stabs at the fish and tries to pick it up again.
I haven’t seen this bird before. Exciting… New… Interesting… What is happening now?
What bird is it? Not an ibis – they have black on them and a different shaped beak. A white heron? An egret?
Later. Look up online and find out the bird is an Eastern Reef Egret (Egretta Sacre) Also called a Pacific Reef-Heron.
Wonder how much fish the Egret ate…
Was it enough for lunch?
And… how did the Egret get the fish?
A bird on a wire: a colourful bird, on an ordinary electrical wire, on an ordinary suburban street – unlike Leonard Cohen’s ‘Bird on the wire” song of 1968.
But what bird is it?
Internet searches come up with ‘No result found’. I can’t insert information like ‘bird type’ or ‘common name ’ because I don’t know them. After viewing dozens of bird pictures, I cannot find this bird.
Fortunately, it stays on the wire for several minutes enabling me to keep clicking. Two more birds, just like this one, visit on nearby wires, but don’t stay long.
Aahh – nothing like a good wing and tail stretch…
and now, a head scratch.
“I missed that yellow butterfly,”
I whisper to my friend.
“Hey! Who are you?”
I shout to that intruder over there!
Any help in recognising this bird happily accepted!
And one more thing…. why does it have two feathers? strands? below the main tail?
If colours are the smiles of nature, as Leigh Hunt said,
then the tropics are all smiles.
Greens and blues of plants and skies.
Reds, pinks, yellows and oranges.
Bright reds of ‘flame’ trees
Hot pinks of hibiscus combine with delicate ivory underneath
Smiling, sunny yellows of yellow bells
and fiery orange heliconia sassy.
Light browns, dark browns
and every hue in between.
Then there are whites…
Stark whites (I daren’t say snow white!)
a cool, calm frangipanni
and gentle, ivory whites of variegated leaves
behind a bold, bright hibiscus.
Lots of smiles in the tropics…
I try to sleep. But can’t sleep.
Even in cool, clean, cream-coloured sheets.
Left USA thirty hours ago.
Mid afternoon now. I should be sleeping.
Nap briefly on the plane across the Pacific and doze lightly on the plane across the South China Sea.
Land in Cairns early morning. Revisit the tropics.
Feel warm air and high humidity.
Strange, after cool, crisp mornings and dry, sunny days of a northern hemisphere ‘fall’.
Mid afternoon. I should be sleeping.
Intend to sleep. Pull dark blue curtains across light white sheers for darkness.
Relax. Rest. But no sleep.
Mind whirring. Jot thoughts in notebook beside the bed.
Ideas. Possibilities. Plans.
Mid afternoon. I should be sleeping.
Suddenly. Get up. Throw on capris and t-shirt. Grab camera. Race out the door.
To the beach. To the beach.
Like a hatchling in Lynley Dodd’s, The Smallest Turtle.
Gentle waves roll in. Leave white, lacy foam on the sand.
Horizon of blue-green sea and blue, blue sky.
Take it all in.
To the beach, to the beach…
with recent images and feelings still fresh and clear.
Travel: explore, embrace, learn and live