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Tuesday, 01 October 2013 09:00

Part twenty-one : Possums again

Just a further note about Percy Possum. He did reappear for a few days and this time he was prepared to look me in the face. Previously, perhaps because his chosen "day-recliner" was only about 12 ft. off the ground, he very deliberately kept his rear end facing the patio. Probably in the hope that if he couldn't see me, I wouldn't see him ! This time, however, he curled up in the V of the branches facing me so I could see his little pink nose, black sparkling eyes and his sensitive twitching ears, which he seemed to spend half his daytime hours scratching at and washing, just like a cat does.

During the time of Wurrgeng, the Northern Brushtail possum is usually in romantic mode and I wondered whether Percy had been away making whoopee. This genus of possum normally inhabits and spreads itself between mangrove and forest (with the occasional foray into suburbia) but its circadian clock is often dictated to by the tides rather than by the day/night clock. This is because the tide could easily bring in tasty morsels which the possums will salvage with glee as a supplement to their normal hunting of nectar and fruit.

I didn't know whether to be glad or sad when Percy returned because I knew he would just love my bananas and pawpaws and devour them during some midnight spree before I had a chance to pick them. Although I don't mind sharing on an equal basis, I don't think possums actually understand that concept !

However, even though I did not issue an eviction notice, he finally disappeared for good after the next visit of the lawn-mowing man. Maybe he was required elsewhere for nursery duties ? Or maybe it was because, as the leaves continued to fall from the tree at an alarming rate, he realised it would not be very long before he was exposed to all and sundry as well as to the hot noonday sun.

Mango season may see him return as there is a mango tree just next door, The Tree will be fully clothed again and the far end of the garden will be too soggy to mow. And yes, I did manage to have my pawpaw untouched by possum paws and teeth ; the bananas are still to ripen.

A while ago I wrote about some human residents here in the community who regularly throw out bread and scraps for the animals and birds. And now I must tell you about one memorable occasion two wet seasons ago that still gives me a slight shiver. The extra rations provided by these generous people are more than welcomed by the Sacred Ibis who, from their perches high up in the gum trees keep beady eyes on the movements of their benefactors ! But most times their inner clock tells them when it is chow time and so they fly down and just wait patiently for the food to appear.

This particular day the rain was heavy with a monsoonal storm ; windy and cold. The ibis, about seven of them, were lined up on the back fence of one such food-giver, shoulders hunched, heads hanging low, feathers wet and dripping. To me they resembled a bunch of evil, grotesque gargoyles that were once placed on the corners of European buildings as part decoration and partly as an assist to drainage. They looked really creepy on that dark, thundery afternoon and although not especially superstitious, I felt they were not a particularly good omen.

Next month : Doggie do's.