Spring

I've been crook with a revolting head cold, which was much improved by taking this past long weekend away with David and friends down at the bay.

We played lots of cards, with the occasional pause for food, or a run to the shops, or a walk in the bush, or to light a huge bonfire and get rid of a big pile of dead wood on the house block before summer starts.

Thierry noticed a dugite, about 60cm long, warming itself up in a sunny spot on the concrete verandah downstairs, so he hustled it off into the bush. The warm weather's brining out the newly-hatched youngsters and the older ones from hibernation, and this is when they are usually their groggiest and grumpiest and in need of warmth and a feed.

The bush was absolutely bursting with flowers — I don't remember ever seeing it look so beautiful.

There was colour everywhere, from lusty swathes of golden wattle to the tiniest little blue stars all across the ground, with blooms just millimetres across. Spectacular.

I am unable to name almost all of them, apart from the obvious orchids, like those in this post.

:: I've taken the doonas off the bed and put on blankets and sheets — our hibernation's over too; we're in for the long, long warm, I think.

True blueI know we're in California and all, and it's beautiful and on the Pacific ... but here we just don't get skies as blue — as really, really clear and blue — and sea as amazingly, vividly turquoise as we do back home in Australia (above). Just look at all that blue!
I had only a few days in Perth before I returned to Albany to be back with Mum and Dad, and David and I spent them racing about seeing his family and meeting up with friends when and where we could. But before the two of us headed back to Albany, we did manage to squeeze in a weekend at the beach-house down south.It did us so much good!
We forget, over here on the other side of the world, up in the other hemisphere, how stunning Australia is.
This (below) is our dear friend Konrad, coming back from a gentle hour or two fishing at the bottom of the garden, bringing home the flathead and a few herring which we had that night before dinner - so good!

Konrad and Dace put us up while we were in Perth - they are the kindest, best friends. Thanks to them, we didn't feel quite so homeless returning to Perth without a house of our own! Luckily, they were both able to come south with us for the weekend, and we played lots of cards, ate lots, drank lots and generally unwound.
This is the beach ...... and this is the path from the garden. From the house, you get these little jewels of blue between the leaves of the gums and peppermint trees. And you can hear the sea — only little waves lapping on the sand — as you lie in bed at night. One October night a few years ago, I woke up to hear whales singing and cavorting in the water. Unforgettable. We couldn't get Will to wake up and come with us, but Dave and I grabbed a torch and went out in the inky blackness to stand at the water's edge. Nothing to see, but you could hear them out there splashing and breeching.
And while we're talking wildlife, here's a pic of a couple of roos at sundown on the farm up the road.Click on the pic to enlarge it. There are more roos visible through the trees on the left. The two in the middle are studying me intently to check me out! Unfortunately, I was upwind from them and just seconds later they bounded off. Does your heart good just to see 'em!