Missed the focus. Kicking myself as I loved this shot.
It was maybe the ten. millionth. time. (Mr BB is so prone to exaggeration!) that I asked to stop and take a picture of something. Some things you just have to stop for. Such as a pic of the water from the old rickety bridge … you know the sort that has no sides and the planks rattle when you drive over? Well, just when I was thinking we would probably be shot at then buried in a shallow grave by the fearsome looking locals who were out in force fishing with their six dawgs (each!) and their monster 4WD’s with huge spotties and (oh, pardon my sweeping generalisations) but as they turned as one to stare at us, it just so happened that the song audible from the window I was hanging a camera out of, was “It’s alright to be a redneck” by Alan Jackson*.
Wasn’t that perfectly opportune?
*(I offer no explanation of why I own that on CD. Some things are better left a mystery!)
It might not actually be that. It could be for yowies. :D
Curtis falls, Mt Tambourine.
Rainforest sights are soul nurturing.
(okay, NOT the leeches and ticks, but they are such a tiny percentage of the landscape! )
I love the rainforest!
Greetings from sunny Queensland!
As I am not a member, I have to thank you here for the kind words you’ve posted about my pictures. Thank you!
This post is for you… Aussies away from home! ♥
Here’s my mate Bob, boiling the billy at Lost World, Lamington national park.
Tossing in some tea… (It was a stiff brew, I can tell you!)
Then give her a swing… and teach the nippers about the properties of centrifugal force.
And Bob’s your uncle. I’d show you us drinking the tea, but.. we were busy drinking. Here’s the view instead…
Thanks for coming to visit!
It rained a few days previous to our girls weekend adventure at Mt Tamborine. The faint hearted among my friends refused to walk to Curtis Falls with me because of the increased likelihood of being eaten up by leeches on the way. Leeches are gross. Ticks are not much nicer, and there was a sign warning of them (as if you can see and avoid!) at the start of the walk.
But Bloggy friends, it was worth the risk. (I can say that with a sense of the cavalier now that I have come through the ordeal unscathed by any blood sucking parasites… )
Life is richer for seeing a waterfall. :-)
…and you can always carry salt
A line of trees is a bit like an old building, or.. old letters, or.. any of those other things I can’t go past. No idea why I like them, I just do.
Today, our New Year’s Day, was delicious.
Bowl of cherries for brekker. (Could only be improved by the addition of some King Island Dairy triple brie.. but you can’t have everything.)
A trip to Springbrook National Park to see the natural arch. (Here, it most definitely would have been improved if I’d brought my tripod, and someone to carry it! Must have groaned over not having it about.. oh.. a hundred times.)
Being in the Gold Coast vicinity, we hit the beach. About half an hour of the beach completely fulfils my beachy needs, and I left Mr BB and the crowd, to read my non-school fluffy chic lit book and eat slightly melty Lindt.
That, bloggy friends, is a perfect start to the year.
Hope yours is as glorious.
I have a fancy for old, dilapidated buildings. I don’t know what it is.. maybe it’s the way you can feast your imagination on the history of them. But whatever it is, I can’t go past one.
Happy Spring, bloggy friends!
Ever watched butterflies court? I feel privileged to have intruded on this pair. Must be a male thing, though, that such a hairy, old, beat up specimen as this one, has perfect confidence in his ability to charm that unblemished young thing on the leaf.
It’s a possum.
He’s right where he belongs*.
He is in an old termite nest, high in a gum tree. Last year it contained nesting kookaburras. I dearly wanted to peek in then, never having seen baby kookaburras, but kookaburras have deadly beaks.
The possum, however, could be mild-mannered. So I dragged, with the help of my intrepid mother, an extension ladder across the paddock at her house. She very bravely tried to steady the ladder while I attempted the necessary acrobatics to get a shot using manual focus – which of course means no hands on the ladder. It is a very wavery business when you are at the upper limit of a tall ladder, and the ground is a long, long way away.
After I took the shot, I told my Mama that I was going to try to touch the bundle of fur facing me. I had no idea how it would respond, so gave Ma strict instructions that should the camera and I come tumbling down in a hurry from our great height, she was to catch the camera. Being the sage woman she is, she told me in her most enduringly patient mother voice that it would make more sense to pass the camera back down before bearding the possum in his den. Mothers are so practical. :)
The possum took the petting with good graces. I’ve always asserted that possums are very high on cute factor.**
*By definition, “belongs” means anywhere but my ceiling!
** When they are not living, or worse, dead, in my ceiling.
We’ve been to see the HMB Endeavour replica ship. For those of you who read my Beyond Bluestockings blog, I want you to observe how carefully I am avoiding all pirate speak. Of course, it’s a waste, a shocking waste of opportunity, but.. I resist. :P
These bees are all boys. They don’t sleep in holes, as the girls do, but cluster on a branch over night. While most of them held still (just a few restless souls among them) it was no place for a tripod, so I had to use a flash. The result is that you can’t see how delightfully blue their stripes are.
They hang on to the branch by their jaws.