Who’s at Home?
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.