I Love a Rainy Night

In truth, last month's frog hunt is a distant memory. Through the magic of down-loadable digital images... you'll never know it!
Thomas and I went on a frog hunt to Simpson's Gap organized by the Alice Springs Field Naturalists Club- the "Field Nats." The evening's entertainment was to include a barbecue, as most events do here, but it was a rare rainy day, so we hoped for a clear-up and drove out (c. 10K) for the walk only.
Tom had to go to a boring old party at a restaurant, so couldn't be out dripping, slogging through puddles and wiping the rain out of his eyes with us. Poor Tom.
With the weather hitting 115 a couple times that week and my skin starting to crack at the edges, I stepped out into welcome, cool rain.
Thomas, not having the B.M.I. of a 46 year-old woman, was freezing. My over-sized swimming shirt was all I could scrounge from the trunk.



There were about four other eco-hags, a couple guests thereof and the lovely 8 year-old Ainsley for Thomas to pal around with and impress with his "red flashlight that the frogs can't see."

Straight from the parking lot, there were masses of frogs. All along the sandy trail to the waterhole, tiny dots and dashes leapt from the pathway. It was hard to see them before they escaped and we were getting frustrated. No worries! Nearer the waterhole was frog central. We saw the burrowing frog un-burrowing up through the sand by the hundreds. Some were pettable. It stopped raining.



The rock walls of the gap were home to the (cute, green, sticky) Gillen Tree Frog - a species only found right around Alice Springs. Really, how could they be expected to travel? - open desert not being ideal for frog dispersal.



Unlike the tadpoles I'm used to in the US, some of these guys (and gals) go from egg to adult form in as little as 3 weeks. You have to work fast to be an amphibian in Alice Springs.


Thomas's bug container with built-in magnifying glasses was a hit with the Field Nats, if not with the frogs. Thanks again Feliecia!


The puddles around the larger waterhole were alive with other creatures, too. This centipede was about 9 inches long. I wanted to stick my foot in the picture for a reference, but I didn't really want my toes that close to his pinchers!

The water scorpions were neat too, but not photogenic. They breathe through a snorkel tube that comes from their butt, can pinch hard and occasionally fly.

Someone else found a leech.

You know, lots of tourists swim in these waterholes. If they only knew...


We returned to our car about an hour later, soggy and satisfied. I'm told one species of frog's call sounds just like a sheep bleating and you can hear hundreds at a time. We're going to have to go back.

"Caught between a naturalist and a hard place."

We Have Lift-off!

Concentration. Determination.
Knee-pads, elbow-pads, Spiderman shorts, helmet AND a really cool horn;
but no, Nb. NO TRAINING WHEELS!!

just... black

I love iced coffee. The Australians love iced coffee and it is everywhere - vending machines, gas stations; even in 2-litre jugs in the grocery store fridge case. Ironically, it is milky, thin, sweet, dull, flat lousy!
From a cafe, iced coffee automatically comes with cream and sugar and a dollop of ice cream on top. Well, sometimes a girl wants/needs a straight-up, bitter, shot in the arm,(non-alcoholic) icy cold beverage!
This morning, I asked at said cafe:
"Can you make black iced coffee?"
Slightly stunned girl to older woman making coffee:"Can we make black iced coffee?"
Woman:"Sure."
Girl to me:"Ok, it'll just be a few minutes. You still want the cream, sugar and ice cream in it, right? Cuz it's all mixed up in jugs."
Me, patronizingly but friendly: "Then it wouldn't be black, would it?"
Girl and older woman have muffled conversation.
Woman:"You want what?"
Me:"Just a black iced coffee."
Woman:"You want it made with water?"
Me (knowing this is looking less than hopeful) "Just like a long black, but over ice."
Woman: "I can make a long black, but it won't be cold. We don't have ice."
Me, still smiling and nodding, thanking and walking away.

Now when she said, "Sure." What would I have gotten?


Next up - Frog Hunt Night

Any Given Sunday

We haven't been anywhere lately to tell you about, so here is a recount of...(brrrrrrrrrrrr-cha!)
"The AMAZING Cicada Project!!"

I knew Sunday would be a great day because there was a fish on the driveway. Thomas added the dorsal fin; otherwise, it was a natural occurrence. Huh.

Later, whilst hanging out clothes (I know... Sunday... Don't tell any of my baptists buddies), I saw a cicada molting right there on the side of the house. Called Tom and Thomas. Of course, Thomas wanted to keep it. He's always had a thing for cicadas, but then, who doesn't?!? Right? ....right?

The research team assembled their collection tools:
1. old butterfly house packed for just such occasions (thanks Feliecia),
2. soft washcloth to prevent sliding about.
The research assistant wisely pointed out that our house was recently sprayed by the exterminator (potentially deadly and very painful spiders have temporarily changed my view on pesticides, OK?) and pyrethrin works through insects' feet. We had to make sure our specimen didn't crawl on the wall OF DEATH!
The research staff tread a fine line - wait until the subject's exoskeleton had hardened so as not to smush it, but not so long as to allow it to walk off its shell and toxify its entire system! The litter of dead grasshopper bodies on the sidewalk rattled forebodingly.
The delicate transfer from brick to washcloth was successful. Phew!
The newly-molted adult cicada was gently dropped inside and spirited away to the research facility for observation.
Over a period of about an hour, it slowly tuned from pinkish-white to beautiful black and yellow with a prominent McDonald's logo on its head. The research assistant lay on the spare bed and watched the whole time. Meanwhile, the head scientist Googled captive cicada requirements.
1. You can't feed them. They need flowing sap.
2. They live 6 or so years underground but only about a week above ground, so let them go mate.
3. There are about 220 species in Australia and none are listed as sporting a McDonald's logo; obviously a new species.

While observing "her" (males buzz and she didn't) in the facility's semi-sterile flight cage (bathroom), I noticed she had kind eyes. All five of them. In fact, she was quite cooperative and patient through our entire study.
The team decided potential benefits to the educational community outweighed the risk of one hungry (thirsty?) McCicada and shared her with the class on Monday. The research assistant noticed her eyes had turned from black to red by that time.

Two fellow scientist visited the research facility later Monday to eat chicken nuggets, play race cars, and release the specimen who, with a quick good-bye, flew off to her new life (music up, lights up, applause amid hurriedly brushing away tears).

Since cicadas neither bite nor sting and do very limited damage to their host trees, thumbs up for the kind, cooperative, patient cicada. What's not to love?

A River in (a Short) Time

I never thought to take a photo of the Todd River that goes through town because it's not there. People talk about "the river," but it's just a broad, flatter, sandier place than the rest of the flat, sandy place. It is a dry river bed and an area known for muggings, fights and a place you don't go near at night.

Then, it started raining. Really raining. Like, wake-you-up-at-night kind of raining. Seems there was a cyclone (hurricane) at the top end near Darwin and it came down on us as rain. The river came in too. The front of it came like someone draining their pool next door. You could see the water coming into town, down the river bed. Kids were there, running in front of it.
The newspaper took pictures. Everyone went to see. That was Wednesday.

As the rain continued into the third day, the river grew and people had fun in it. Knowing the trash and waste washing around in it, most locals stayed out. That was Friday morning.
After four days of rain feeding the flow from the top end, it was a torrent. It was a huge, raging, coffee with lots of cream-colored massive thing. It buried roads by a metre. It drowned two men. That was Saturday.

The rain petered out late Saturday and gave up on Sunday. Monday, I went to take a picture of the sight and it was gone.

They say this was the highest it's been since the 80's. Some outlying roads were still closed a week later. Backhoes pushed the silty sand back off the causeways - roads that go across the riverbed.

The trees and shrubs are having a burst of new growth; some grew several inches in just a couple weeks. We may see some annual flowers blooming in another couple weeks.
Now, where does the river flow to? The answer is - away. From here, it flows south (Why south? Don't know.) toward the Simpson Desert where what's left of it soaks into the sand.

Images from N'Dhala

The rock below is depicted in the sign above. Again, the strong sun washes out a lot of detail. Sorry.

Day after Christmas - trying to read the rocks.

Outback Tom
This shallow cave/overhang would have housed a large family year-round.

a menorah.

Tom's "parachute man," - middle left. About 10 feet above the ground.

Harry said this is the largest one he's found. It was about 5 feet across. If you look closely, it is caterpillars radiating out - the Alice Springs/Mbarntwe story.

Christmas 2009

Obviously, I've been procrastinating posting our Christmas story. Like Christmas, the pressure was horribly daunting - too much to get into one package and one shot to get it right.
So, I decided to just lay it on the line. Christmastime was sad. Sorry. With my mom dying in March and no one here to do "regular" Christmas with, it had many really sad moments of loneliness and blech. Just for the record, "Regular Christmastime" has: Holy Supper with disgusting dishes like herring and fish and egg, lots of decorations, carols on every radio station and in every public place for a month, snow or at least weather within 80 degrees of the possibility, too much visiting, cookies, boil-o, Lithuanian songs and the state of Pennsylvania.
Fortunately, I'm a grown-up most of the time and I can fake it. Thomas had a really good Christmas and faking it can make a person feel better.
Christmas morning, we finally had to wake Thomas up at 10 a.m. What child is this? We had a nice video call with some of our family on their Christmas Eve.
We took our time opening prezzies which translates to: hours. We had a great brunch of eggs, ham and pancakes with berries and whipped cream. Thomas saw an angel with a trumpet in his dippy egg. Can you?
About 3 p.m., we packed for Ross River Resort; about an hour out of town. People had told me it was "rustic." That's the sunny Aussie attitude for you - it was yuuuu-cky! We had a $125 a night cabin. The floor was stone which could be neato except it hadn't seen a cleaning in a few decades. The walls were wood slats which had been upgraded in the last generation by stapling burlap along the inside. There were too many spiders even for me. The pictures actually look way better than the real thing. I'm done complaining now. Back to making it an exciting adventure.
The area was beautiful. The pool was fine except for the cleaner constantly crawling along the bottom like a horseshoe crab with its vacuum hose trailing across preventing a good swim. The people running it and taking us on our tour the next day (Ossie's Outback Adventures) were exceedingly nice.
The STARS at 3 a.m. when I couldn't sleep because it was 90 degrees with the a/c full blast and the scratching, chewing noise next to my bed was disconcerting, were indescribable. I'll try to make them describable. It was like looking deep into a bouquet of asters - the tiny, white ones. There were layers of stars. Once you saw them, caught your breath then started breathing again, you saw more, then more, then more, then more. They made me feel incredibly small and incredibly omnipotent at the same time. That was worth it.
Saturday (Boxing Day), we had a 4-wheel drive tour of N'Dhala (rhymes with koala) Gorge, known for its petroglyphs. Most of the carvings at N'Dhala are from the last 2,000 years, but some are up to 10,000 years old. The sun was high and clear so the photos aren't great.
There are around 6,000 carvings in the rocks of the gorge. We found some our guide had never seen. They were quite fascinating. Harry, our guide, said the reason for the amount of carved rock art in the N'Dhala area is its abundance of resources - plants, animals, easy water and caves for shelter. The ancient Aboriginals didn't have to spend their days hunting and digging for food and water here, so they had the luxury of free time. The sacredness of the place is reflected in the symbols - again, the creator caterpillar-beings and many others. Tom found one he called the parachute man.
Our walk was about 2 hours and we were all parched back at the jeep. We were then treated to an extra driving tour of a cattle station on the way. Some wild horses, called "brumbies" live here but were invisible that day. The bores or wells for cattle attract a lot of birds. We saw flocks of zebra finches in the hundreds with the "Droughtmaster" cattle. The cattle live on just the scrub they find in the outback desert - no hay or grain. These are some tough cattle.
Back at the ranch, we gorged on Aussie burgers at the main house - beef, cheese, lettuce, tomato, bacon, pineapple, beetroot and a fried egg. Hit the spot.
The rest of our trip was spent in the pool. A pink-eared duck was there the next morning and I know it was a pink-eared duck because I got a bird book for Christmas. Thanks Santa!

PS Images from N'Dhala get their own blog entry.
PPS The little white fluffy guy is Happy - a pup were were sitting for a friend.