I woke before sunrise this morning and lay in bed watching the microbats flitting around the back garden. I don’t see them much at dusk and see them rarely at night, so it was lovely to watch them cleaning up the insects. There were at least two species, judging by different sizes, and they were zipping in and out of Birnam Forest along the side of the house.
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I have recovered from my momentary confusion between Thursday and Friday. It made me wonder how the Doctor manages to keep track of the days, what with all his travelling backwards and forwards in time, which, as we all know, is ‘not a strict progression of cause to effect but...more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff’. Still, I suppose you get used to that sort of thing after 900+ years of it. Although...how is that measured? I mean, all those planets with different sidereal periods. Not to mention the occasional trips into parallel universes and the odd reboot of this one. Really, I can’t even keep track of Thursday.
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Once again, Little Poss has stopped visiting. He must be answering the call of the wild. A couple of possums engaged in some marsupial argy-bargy on top of the house yesterday. It ended when one them jumped — or was pushed — off the roof. The grounded possum wandered away as if nothing happened, then scampered up a nearby tree to a branch that was higher than the roof, where it spent the rest of the evening looking down on its opponent. I’m not sure if that’s a win or a loss.
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A pair of white-headed pigeons visited the garden yesterday. I’d heard them calling during the week, but that was the first time I’d seen them on this property. Apart from the Papuan frogmouth, there have been no more additions to the bird list lately. I must nip out to Hastie’s Swamp to see if I can add any waders to the tally.
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A brush turkey is kicking at the kitchen door, trying to open it. Every time I turn around, the bird stops kicking and starts preening in a why-are-you-looking-at-me-I’m-not-doing-anything fashion. I expect that it will begin complaining that I’m always blaming it for something. If it had a room, I would send it there to think about what it’s done. Excuse me while I encourage it to kick another turkey.
