Part Thirteen: Finale - almost

The continuation of last year's episodic narrative with my observations of flora and fauna (especially the bird life) in a, to me, completely new location and setting, is now nearly at a close, but I do have one or two interesting things to tell you before I leave this space to other contributors.

I am writing this in mid-January and the pre-monsoon season (October to December) of Gunumeleng has passed with barely a whimper. This present season of Gudjewg (December to March) is the time when waterfalls thunder with extra water, creeks and rivers flow profusely breathing life into our ecosystem, and the landscape is inundated with water, attracting all sorts of wildlife to plentiful food provided by the rejuvenating monsoonal rainfall.

Alas, the few random electric storms that we have had do not a 'Wet Season' make, and I still have my nightly automatic sprinkler operating, just waiting for the delayed monsoon rains to begin!

During the dry season, in anticipation of the coming big 'WET', I dug a branched drain at the bottom of my garden (where, in the previous wet season, I had a large lake) to imitate a small creek and to divert the excess water beyond my fence. This small creek was then lined with stones, had a wooden bridge placed picturesquely placed across it, had suitable reedy-type plants lining the banks, and even had a 40cm-long crocodile take up residence just to complete an authentic Territory setting.

So far, it has made a SPECTACULAR DRY RIVERBED: quelle mise en scene! Where IS the rain?

A strategically placed fallen 'log' provides a high, safe route across the creek for the tata lizards who seem to prefer the 'log' rather than use the bridge. Perhaps this is just to avoid the toll-collecting troll (statue) that sits at one end of the bridge, glowering at the riff-raff wanting to go across for free!

Sometimes in the early morning, a tata lizard pauses in a shaft of sunlight, the white stripe down his neck oozing aggression when he is disturbed from his sunbaking-cum-fly catching readiness. He then quickly waves 'ta-ta' with his front leg, and is gone in a flash back to his secret hideout in amongst the new fast-growing greenery.

One interesting event that occurred during our wonderfully cool dry season, was the two or three foggy mornings we experienced. Trees and bushes loomed out of the mist at about waist height, rising from a layer of white, drifting cloud. As the sun rose higher and dispersed this floating ground cloud, it revealed the delicate, lacy, dew-drop encrusted webs of myriads of tiny trap-door spiders, dotted all over the lawn. These webs were virtually unnoticeable until the rising sun highlighted the sprinkled, jewelled droplets, turning the lawn into a carpet of seemingly fragile gossamer threads. This phenomenon relies on the occasional cool misty mornings during the dry season, and is a relatively rare sight in the tropics.

Next month: Finale – part two.