High fog, high(er) cloud, followed by high humidity when the fog burns off and you get clear skies for a few hours. This is what has happened today. But you can almost hear the plants growing. It is a great feeling, and it is what makes Robertson the kind of place that it is. Well, at least the colour that it is - green.
I have just returned from a brief visit with G., in the deepest, darkest, shadiest glade of "Lower Ranelagh". He has Camellias which he has pruned which are nearing 8 metres high again. And a Mulberry on which the re-growth from a pruning "attack" is nearly 2 metres long. Meanwhile, swarms of little bronze-green Beetles are redressing the balance of nature, by stripping the leaves on his Cherry trees.
While we were having a cup of G's finest coffee, a "Copper-tailed Skink", Ctenotus taeniolatus was playing on the cobble stones around the pond. (Photo by Peter Robertson © Museum Victoria.)
Meanwhile, a Wonga Pigeon (Leucosarcia melanoleuca) (Photo: Glen Threlfo) walked past his door, just a few metres away from us. (This link from the Lamington National Park has sound files, so you can listen to the Wonga Pigeon's call.) King Parrots were lining up in the trees, waiting for a feed. George is fond of complaining about the mess that the "bloody Lyrebirds" make. I just smile and say "we should all be so lucky, G.!"
G. is a cat lover, but he keeps his cats indoors, totally, which is to be greatly admired. Otherwise, these little native creatures would not be there for us to admire.
Breaking news: My Z. has just informed me that I am due to inherit a cat. Now that will be an interesting challenge. Z. will need to take advice from G. on training a cat to become an indoor cat.