"Scary swamp" not so bad

Our most recent walk explored a dark and mysterious wetland in Malvern Springs.  It was an overcast and misty-wet morning.  I pointed to our destination; a large group of paperbarks, with a thick green canopy.  Some of the walkers looked a bit nervous as we left the sandy track and headed towards the heavily-shaded wetland.

During our walk, I talked about how animals and plants survive in their environment.  The paperbark trees (Melaleuca preissiana) in this place grow tall and thin, competing for light. 

I wanted the walkers to imagine the place we were in, what it would look like with water lapping around the base of the trees.  In the past, this wetland may have had as much as 50 cm of water in it.  Here's a photo I took in September 2008, after heavy rain.  This is what the wetland should always look like in winter.  (In summer, it dries out and the soil becomes hard.)  On the day of our walk, the ground was quite hard and only slightly damp, because the rain was so light.

The children were excited, and found many interesting things to share; a broken eggshell, perhaps from an owl's nest, some Pink Fountain Triggerplants (Stylidium brunonianum), a small Wolf spider, a butterfly hanging upside-down to avoid the raindrops, grasshoppers, kangaroo scats, a mantis egg-case. To them, it was a magical place - so many things to see, and lots of questions to ask!  

I had given the children some rubbish bags, gloves and tongs, and they burnt off their excess energy pouncing on drink cans and odd pieces of food wrapper that had somehow made their way into the wetland.  (What a great way to tidy up a bush reserve!)  The adults had relaxed; one even commented that the wetland had looked scary from outside, but was ok after all. One keen photographer found a Purple Enamel Orchid (Elythranthera brunonis), and someone else found Cowslip Orchids (Caladenia flava). 

We discussed the need to look, listen and be aware of surroundings, including being careful where to walk.  We talked about snakes and spiders, about the antlions waiting in the bottom of their sand pit traps to catch and eat ants.  We admired the drifts of White Myrtle (Hypocalymma angustifolium).  We looked at the vandalism of the paperbarks, and decided that vandalism is not the best way to interact with our wetlands.  

I'm sure that these walkers will be good custodians of their local wetland treasure.  

world's biggest dugite and the Japanese hen

Ellenbrook is having a spell of cooler weather (11 to 24 degrees Celsius) and it’s a perfect time to go bushwalking.  So yesterday I headed off for a long stroll amongst the banksias and paperbarks.

At about 4pm I was carefully picking my way through an ephemeral wetland.  These kinds of wetlands have huge paperbark trees (typically Melaleuca preissiana) and a thick patchy understorey of shrubs and sedges.  Ephemeral wetlands in this part of Australia have water lying on the surface after rain in winter, and are dry most of the remainder of the year.  But the shrubs and trees are great places to see animals.  It’s slow going through this kind of country. 

 

I noticed a big shiny long dark animal lying on top of some low shrubs, sunning itself.  I was about to put my foot down about 1m in front of its head.  Then I found myself retracing a few slow steps.  I’d taken it all in, processed, reacted, and finally my brain said, “Stop, look at the snake!”  It was beautiful; glossy and in good health.  The head was slightly larger than my thumb, raised off the ground and turned slightly to look at this large beast blundering through its home territory (me).  The body was about 2cm thick in the middle.  The colouring was a uniform dark brown to black on the top and graduated to a lighter reddish orange-brown on the sides, with no markings.  The head was a lighter reddish brown with a distinct “venomous snake” shape.  I couldn’t see the whole length because the rear end was hooked in through the understorey, but what I could see was about 1.5m of Dugite (Pseudonaja affinis).  I walked quietly past without the snake even flicking its tongue.  When I was safely past, I had an urgent need to have another look at it, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming!  This was the FIRST time I’ve seen a snake during my bushwalks around Ellenbrook (in hundreds of hours over three years of exploring).  So I crept back, and the snake just lay there placidly, unperturbed.  What a beauty!  I continued on my walk.

After a few hours of wandering, the sun was setting and it was time to go home.  As I walked back through banksia woodland on ancient dunes, I saw a tiny cartoon-ish face peering at me out of the sand.  I stooped to look closer.  Children’s plastic toy?  Piece of rubbish?  I took hold of it, and it was firmly embedded, so I dug it out.  It was a little pottery chicken, intact except for a couple of chips; white with black scallops and orange wattles.  A faded label said “Handcrafted Otagiri JAPAN”.  Possibly a salt shaker, judging by the two small holes.  How did this thing come to be in bushland?  It’s probably the weirdest “lost” item I’ve found yet.