Big Bob is the resident Yoorn or Bobtailed Lizard. He lives under the house and can occasionally be seen exploring the garden. Normally he is a very feisty lizard with a lot of attitude, but on Monday we found him in the shade house looking very sorry for himself. At first we thought he’d gone down with Bobtailed flu, but on closer inspection he was shedding his skin. We often find the old skins in the garden but I’ve never seen this happen. So we thought we’d just leave him be and get on with it. On Tuesday he’d moved out onto the grass and we were worried about him as we often get kestrels, goshawks or sparrow hawks use our TV aerial as an observation post and they’d have no qualms about making a meal of him. He started wriggling and writhing in the grass in an attempt to get his old skin off. By lunch time apart from a few scraps between his toes he’d got the job done. By Wednesday he was back to scaring our Bull Terrier, Frida, and walking round the garden like he owns it. Another couple of weeks and he’ll be tucking himself up for the winter.
Big Bob our resident Bobtailed Lizard found in the shadehouse looking very sorry for himself.
He’d started to shed his skin and was looking very tatty.
Not dead, wriggling in the wet grass trying to remove the old skin.
As the sun warmed everything up he was content to lie like this for about half an hour.
Right side up again.
Still looking a bit manky.
After another hour mission accomplished – looking all new and neat again.
Caladenia roei goes by a number of common names which are Clown Orchid, Ant Orchid, Man Orchid, and Jack-in-the-box Orchid. Narrogin, Western Australia.
If you just look at the media you’d think that there’s not a lot of hope for the world. We’re in the middle of a global pandemic, there are bushfires raging on the west coast of America, eastern Australia was ravaged by bushfires earlier in the year, there’s a global recession – the list goes on and on. There seems very little hope left in the world. If you want to find some hope then you’re going to have to go looking for it.
Yoorn is the Nyoongar name for the bob tailed lizard (Tiliqua rugosa). Narrogin, Western Australia.
Every now and again I come across a place that gives me hope for the present and the future. They always take the form of a scrap of land that somebody has decided to regenerate. I’ve written about a couple of these places before – Lake Seppings and Lake Claremont.Both of these are examples of urban regeneration based around a lake. This month I’ve been out in the Wheatbelt exploring a reserve east of Narrogin. It’s a bush block in the middle of farm land that is being allowed to regenerate. To say it’s off the beaten track is an understatement. When you get there there is no access to it, no paths, no signs other than one telling you that it is a regeneration project. As you you make your way through the scrub you begin to notice something quite remarkable – there’s no evidence of any human visitation. No litter, no vehicle tracks, no foot prints. Nature is being left to itself and it is a wonderful sight. It’s not in anyway shape or form picturesque – just dense scrub fringing a granite outcrop.It’s hard country to move in as the scrub and the rocky uneven terrain make the going quite difficult in places, and then when you hit the rock it is quite steep and exposed.
The overly friendly echidna (tachyglossus aculeatus). Narrogin, Western Australia.. Narrogin, Western Australia.
Straight off the the things that were most noticeable were in the larger gaps between the trees where the sun hit the ground were amazing profusions of wildflowers – everlastings, orchids, all sorts. Then I started to stay still and just tune into the environment. The bird song was really loud and was made up the calls from lots of different species. Moving slowly I saw lots of different insects – spiders webs, butterflies, different types of beetles that I’d never seen before. There was a lot of evidence of digging on the ground. The small holes the size of a saucer and a couple of centimetres deep were signs that kangaroos were looking for moist roots and tubers. The larger holes had me puzzled until I found the culprit- these were made by echidnas looking for ants and termites. At one point I stopped to photograph some flowers and I was lying in the leaf litter to do so when I felt something touch my foot. Ever mindful of snakes I looked and found not a snake but an echidna. I was having a close encounter of the spiny kind. As I came to the rock the trees thinned out and there were bob tailed lizards basking in the sun. On the rock itself there were crested dragons (Ctenophorus cristatus), they are virtually impossible to photograph as they are so quick in dashing to the protection of an overhanging rock or crevice.
A pair of Australian Ground Shield Bugs meeting on a plant stem. Narrogin, Western Australia.
It would be tempting to over romanticise the place saying it was a return to the Garden of Eden or Paradise Regained. Looking at with a more down to each perspective it just illustrates how nature can recover if it is allowed to. There are no groups of volunteers here replanting and doing pest eradication as there was at Lakes Seppings and Claremont. It is just nature being allowed to do its thing and that is what gives me hope. So if you are feeling overwhelmed and hopeless with the current situation I can thoroughly recommend going to a nearby nature spot, or even your own garden, and thoroughly immersing yourself in it. Look up, look down, listen, even sniff. Just soak it all up and let it feed your soul.
Candy Orchid, Caladenia hirta subsp. hirta. Narrogin, Western Australia.
Little Bob does brunch on our back patio. Panasonic Lumix G85 with LEICA DG 100-400/F4.0-6.3 lens. Exposure: 1/500 sec, f6.3 at ISO 320 with -1 stop exposure compensation.
We have at present three bob tailed lizards (Tiliqua rugosa) living in the back garden. There’s Big Bob – he’s big male who must be very old judging from the size of him. He’s been here the longest and when he got sick with bobtail lizard flu one winter a couple of years ago we had him inside the house to help him get over it and then tucked him up under a pile of leaves for the remainder of the winter. Just a couple of weeks ago I heard this thrashing about under the sofa on our back patio and when I went and looked it was Big Bob mating with a smaller sleeker female who I called Mrs Bob (hey I can’t be stunningly original all the time!). They are unlike other lizards monogamous and give birth to live young so we’re looking forward to the new arrivals. Little Bob made an appearance on the patio this morning, he’s significantly smaller than the other two so I guess he’s not very old. They are omnivores and very partial to fruit – strawberries being a favourite – so I sliced up a cherry tomato and he/she scoffed the lot very quickly. As they also eat snails and insects I’m hoping that having three of them will mean that they keep the garden pests down. There’s also a bit of an old wives tale that says if you have one in your garden it’ll keep snakes away. I dunno if it’s actually true or not, but having three has got to be good.
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