I thought I should dig out my fins and mask for a bit of snorkelling down at the beach. The first time I have used them in ages.
With a few minutes, I came face to face with a stingray. This is not him – I did not have my camera with me – but one like him. He was a fair sized chap – maybe the size of a coffee table, with a decent tail, which was armed with a decent barb. I am told they are not dangerous, so we swam around each other 2 or 3 times, and then each went our separate ways. They are elegant creatures – not seeming to hurry, but obviously capable of putting on a fair turn of speed if they want to. Like coming across a reef shark in open water for the first time – you know logically that there is nothing to be afraid of, but even so, one’s heart rate clicks up just a notch when you meet one.
Mrs Perdita Shrimpton was not in the least afraid. When I had had enough snorkelling, and headed back to the beach, there she was swimming beside me. Louise, watching from the shore, told me she had been trying to keep up with me for a while. Happily, she (Perdita, that is, not Louise) has been rehabilitated to the beach. A few days ago, there seemed to be a complaint that she was out of order, running, as she does, through the shallows from one end of the beach to the other. And back again. And again. But after a few telephone calls, and a meeting with the chap from the Council, it seems there are no outstanding complaints – just a case of a few locals getting used to a new resident.
Talking of residents, it seems that the local hare likes my new lawn (well, small patch of pioneer grass). I wonder if that explains why one of the eagles was hovering just a few feet above my garden (well, small patch of pioneer grass) yesterday.
The kangaroos are onto me. There was a really big effort drinking from my dam on Saturday evening. Well, the pubs shut early around here.