A walk along the foreshore track...

After all the recent rain we've had a spell of crisp, sunny, winter days. Yesterday I went for a walk around the foreshore track, somewhat altered by two large slips - evidence of the constant movement of land in this part of the world. When I go walking I always take a small pack. It leaves home empty but always returns with treasure. The foraging instinct is strong and very satisfying!

Yesterday's treasure included silver beet for the chooks. This grows prolifically along the waterfront. I don't know whether it results in pre-salted eggs, but the chooks love it.

Then there was the rock - from the several rockfalls around the track. Amazing how heavy rock is. I can only carry one small chunk at a time. So the edging I am developing is very slow in the making.  Nevertheless it feels good to take something that is surplus to requirements (and free) and put it to use.

Ever since I moved to Governors Bay I've picked up old pieces of china in the tidal zones. After heavy rains, the areas where creeks wash into the sea are particularly productive. I love the hint of pattern, the tantalising glimpses of past lives. It's like finding precious little jewels. Most exciting is spotting a plain sliver of china and turning it over to find - occasionally - a glorious design.  Yesterday's discoveries...

There was more. I'm not sure what this little container would have been used for. It was full of mud and I've yet to clean it out properly. But so satisfying!!

Night noises...

It was so stiflingly hot last night that I decided to sleep downstairs. Buried under a sheet in the vain hope of fooling the mosquitoes, I finally drifted off, only to be wakened in the early hours of the morning by a loud bang in the garage. I leapt out of bed, turned the garage light on and just caught sight of Mr Black Possum hightailing it out the cat flap. I think the possums make regular visits to the chook food bins - which I have learned to seal fast. This time, in the hope of getting some more, undisturbed sleep, I dragged a small chest across the cat flap and crawled back into bed. 

Sometime later I heard a commotion down the hill in the chook enclosure. I raced upstairs, found a torch, scooted downstairs, removed the chest to get out the garage door and stumbled downhill. The big girls were all roosting quietly in their house. Amber and the 11 chicks were on the move in a very agitated fashion. My biggest fear has been that one of the cats would get into the enclosure and pick off chicks. However no cats were visible. Since all the movement was away from the A-frame where Amber takes the chicks at night, I shone the torch in there and discovered - a little hedgehog!!  All that fuss for a hedgehog not much bigger than the chicks and probably way more frightened.

I decided to let Amber sort it out and made my way back to bed. The moral of this story? Sleep upstairs in the heat or get earplugs...