Waiting for the Weekend

For Will and me, winter during the week is an indoors sort of time. We are generally up before the sun and getting ready to drive into school, and arriving home as the last rays of light disappear over the mountains to the west. On the drive back out of town, we often see the last of the sunlight, watery and pale, washing two large peaks just beyond Seventy Seven Acres with a golden orange glow. Sometimes we arrive home in the grey twilight, sometimes in the pitch dark. Occasionally, very occasionally, we might get home before the light fades… but this is a rare treat.

Once home, there is little to do outside other than fetch in some extra wood for the fire or take kitchen scraps out to the compost. Will might run around with a torch for a while, but it doesn’t take long before he heads indoors to the fireside to catch up with what Matt has been up to during the day.

Weekends are different.

A small winter flowering shrub... possibly a heath of some sort.

A small winter flowering shrub… possibly a heath of some sort.


We join Matt on his never ending quest to find good wood to burn, or wander round the bush enjoying the winter wildflowers or looking for signs of the animals that share our little piece of heaven.




Today we have blue skies after a windswept night, with heavy rain-filled clouds to the south of us, blowing away towards the coast. Matt and Will have gone abseiling, and I’m just stealing a few moments to catch up on a bit of writing before I grab my coat and go for walk.

The other birds had long gone  by the time  I was outside, but this kookaburra was waiting in the tree on the lookout for something tasty...

The other birds had long gone by the time I was outside, but this kookaburra was waiting in the tree on the lookout for something tasty…

Outside my study window I can see some beautiful scarlet robins, two young males resplendent in their bright colours, chasing each other around. It all looks rather playful, but I’m guessing that there is quite a lot at stake for these two in the mating game. A small flock of finches is flitting in and out, too, and my friendly burrawang is picking his way through some scraps I put out earlier.



Beatrice with her new little one... still to be named.

Beatrice with her new little one… still to be named.

There’s no sign of Beatrice and Eugenie today, but I did get my first peek at Bea’s new youngster through the kitchen window earlier in the week when she popped her nose out of the pouch for a few minutes before deciding the wind was too cold. I also had a pair of juvenile visitors – I’m suspecting it might have been Cerise with a younger sister, but no sign of Annie, so I couldn’t be sure. They were a bit nervous, though, and they hopped away when I went out to try and get a closer look.

Anyway, time to pick up my coat and go and enjoy some sun on my face and the breeze in my hair… who knows what I might see today?