travel – Page 18 – Travelling Worm

Tag: travel

Insects and other low life in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion.

Today’s travel notes

Today I’ll give you a worm’s eye view of some insects the TC and I have come across lately. And, following up on my promise of two months ago (By the light of a gibbous moon), I’ll give you another peek into the ups and downs of this worm’s life.

Traveller’s tip

Beware anyone bearing gifts.

The book I’m in

The Laments, by George Hagen.

A funny, comfortable and uncomfortable book. Highly recommended by this worm, who participates but vicariously in the viciousness, vicissitudes and victories of life.

The photos

A word of warning to all my fans: An impending coup of bookmarkian proportions looms.

The book I’m in (The Laments, remember?) deals with the petty conspiracies of daily life and how the average worm triumphs almost willy-nilly. As so often happens, real life is imitating fiction and I’ve recently felt compelled to do some uncomfortable navel gazing. My own navel is nothing to be ashamed of, mark you. But a newer, smoother and shinier one has appeared on the scene. The Rival. She was a gift to the Travelling Companion, so no intended disloyalty on the TC’s part. Still, this worm is wondering what the future may hold.

Me and The Rival:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Sure, The Rival is younger than me. Some might even says she’s better looking. Maybe she’s made of modern material. Into new technology. (She has leaden inserts, no less.) But does she have my style and experience? What can I do to make sure I get the best place in the best books? We can’t share a book, that’s for sure. It doesn’t work for me.

Let’s move on, for now. I promised you some insects. Here’s a shot of some flies and ants on a salmon-barked tree near Manly Dam.

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Can’t see them? I guess not everyone has the advantage of a worm’s eye view. So I’ve blown them up for you. Here are the ants:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

And here’s one of the flies. They’re very small and delicate, about the same size as the ants:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Here are some bees being busy in Manly:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

This is a fungus-covered tree stump near Manly Dam, patrolled by some red beetles:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Here’s a closer view — a denizen of the bark scurrying for cover:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

This beetle probably thinks he’s camouflaged or something:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Here’s someone else hiding amongst the vegetation in Allambie:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

This moth or fly is small and moves quickly. They’re a common sight and quite attractive when they sit still long enough to be examined:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

I’ve shown you this creature before, but I’m a slave to her beauty. She’s a fly of some sort, I think, who was gadding around 40 Baskets a while ago. Like all the other creatures on this page, she’s small — less than a centimetre long:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

To round things off, here’s a rather fine specimen of a worm diving for cover:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

Getting back to the attempted coup looming over me: So, what’s your stand on the Battle of the Bookmarks? You’ll notice that The Rival has decked herself out with pictures of ladybirds. Only pictures, note, whereas I am the real thing.

Just to prove I’m into the new-fangled stuff too, here’s me on the iPhone:

Insects and other low life in Sydney

That’s all for today, dudes.
Cockatoos in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion.

Today’s travel notes

The cockatoos in the area have discovered the TC. For those who haven’t been following my blog, the TC is She with whom I travel. She is a soft touch for anything with ffeathers.

In the last week, the TC has been at home in the dying hours of the afternoon. A passing ffeathered ffiend happened to alight on the window sill and tilt its head in what some might call an appealing fashion. The TC rushed off to find some food that might satisfy the bird’s no doubt urgent hunger. Neither the bird nor the TC were experienced in the human-to-avian interface, so there was a bit of inept fumbling. But eventually mutual satisfaction was achieved.

Traveller’s tip

Never trust a bird, no matter how pretty.

The book I’m in

the Visitor, by Jane R Goodall.

Misty eeriness mixed with good solid detective work.

The photos

Me and a cockatoo. You’ll notice that I kept myself well shielded during the entire experience, using a good book as armour against the ffeathered ffiend:

Cockatoos in Sydney

Even I succumbed to the temptation to get just a bit closer. Dude, that’s a big beak:

Cockatoos in Sydney

Are you wondering how Peg has been recently? She’s keeping it together. Her role in the bird-feeding episode was unglamorous but necessary and above all safe:

Cockatoos in Sydney

The other birds in the neighbourhood soon heard about the free food at the TC’s place:

Cockatoos in Sydney

Inevitably, there’s a movie version too. Here’s a cockatoo checking out the action. He’s standing on the roof, sticking his head upside down through the window and looking ineffably daft:

Here’s the ffeathered ffiend as yet not ffed, attempting to look cute and beguiling. His ffriend struts his stuff on the tree behind:

Here’s one bird eating, but looking a trifle uneasy because another is attempting to join the ffeast. You can hear the footsteps clicking on the roof, then bird number two clambers down the window and muscles in on the action:

Not seen enough yet? There’s more on this worm’s YouTube channel.

That’s all for today, dudes.
Do snakes have legs?

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

Today we went for a stroll along the Spit to Manly Walk. It’s a ten-kilometre path which follows the shore line from Spit Bridge to Manly, near Sydney in Australia.

Of course, you don’t have to do all of it in one go. We didn’t. When you’re travelling with the TC, you can’t get very far without stopping to exclaim over the bird life. Occasionally she manages to trip over the odd snake or something a bit more interesting.

We started at 40 Baskets, near Balgowlah, and headed off towards Spit Bridge.

Traveller’s tip

Tread lightly, because you never know who’s under your shoe.

The book I’m in

Caravans, a novel of Afghanistan, by James A. Michener.

The photos

Let’s start with a bird’s eye view and move progressively to a much more interesting worm’s eye view. It’s spring in Sydney, and the Flannel Flowers are out in full force.

Do snakes have legs?

Here’s a closer view of a Flannel Flower:

Do snakes have legs?

The Spit to Manly Walk runs along the coast, so you get the Australian bush all round you and the sea right there too. Most of the time, it’s a fairly tame view because you are in the harbour rather than on the ocean. Still, it has a quaint appeal.

Do snakes have legs?

The Water Dragons are all over the place, looking at you askance and then scuttling away into the undergrowth. Here’s a rather unflattering view of one of them:

Do snakes have legs?

This one is about 80cm long and quite chubby. Here’s another shot of him:

Do snakes have legs?

And here’s his altogether more sauve-looking cousin:

Do snakes have legs?

Now we get to the question in the title of this blog post:

Do snakes have legs?

Check out this lass:

Do snakes have legs?

Is she a snake, or could she be a “legless lizard”, also known as Pygopodidae? Maybe she can even call herself Delma impar, one of the endangered ones? Take a closer look at her middle bit — there are little half-formed legs that move away from her body as she slithers along. She was not a fast mover, so the TC had ample time to take a photograph:

Do snakes have legs?

I’ve decided to call her Lizzie, for want of a better name. The TC narrowly avoided stepping on poor old Lizzie. I don’t know how she did avoid it, to be frank. She had her head in the trees, as usual, watching the birds and totally unaware of the far more interesting life that goes on at ground level. It’s lucky she has a worm like me as a travelling companion, or she’d miss out on all the important stuff.

If anyone knows what Lizzie is, let me know. She is quite short — less than a metre. Here’s a better look at her face:

Do snakes have legs?

Getting even more of a worm’s eye view, here’s a rather stunning little insect that was flitting about on the rocks on 40 Baskets beach:

Do snakes have legs?

This creature is less than a centimetre long. Tim P dropped a comment on my previous blog post, asking for more close-ups of the “intense detail apparent in tiny living things”. I know he was asking for more photographs of myself, being such a remarkable specimen of a worm, as well as of other small creatures. I promise to post some more of me soon. In the meantime, this one’s for you Tim.

Do snakes have legs?

Does anyone know what insect this is? It looks like a fly of some sort. Drop me a comment if you know anything about it.

That’s all for today, dudes.
Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

I’ll skip the introductions today. If you don’t know me by now, you will never never…. Oo-oo-oo, I almost got trapped in some song lyrics there. Anyway, read my other blog posts or my About Me page if you’re curious about me. And who wouldn’t be?

Today’s travel notes

The Travelling Companion has been playing around in the garden recently, digging and uprooting and planting and generally getting muddy. I have observed her antics from the sidelines, stepping in to suggest the occasional photograph.

It’s struck me just how beautiful we worms are, and our lesser brethren too. So I’ve decided to treat you to some photographs and a movie of us.

Traveller’s tip

If you can’t travel far to find some beauty, try digging around in the dirt instead.

The book I’m in

Troy, Fall of Kings, by David & Stella Gemmell.

Yes, I am still in the same book as last week. The TC has been quite busy, so she has not done much reading. This is a good thing, because it’s a comfortable book.

The photos

Me and Peg in the garden with Dianella.

Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

A centipede on a stone tile. This brave brother worm ventured into the Travelling Companion’s kitchen. He is just a common-or-garden centipede, perhaps a couple of centimetres long.

Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

The next dude (below) is awe-inspiring. He is a blue centipede, dubbed Scolopendra by some. This one is about 5 centimetres long. Beware, not all worms are as friendly as me. Centipedes are predators, and they can bite humans too. He was safely hidden in the soil amongst the roots of some Agapanthus plants, until he was so rudely uprooted. Here is a good view of his back end at bottom left, with his head disappearing into a hole at top right:

Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

He moves fast, this dude, and the TC had trouble getting a good shot. Below is her attempt to capture his head. You can just make out the lighter blue head and the two darker blue antennae at bottom right of this picture:

Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

And here’s a video. Alas, the TC did not excel in the making of this movie, but it’s a good laugh as well as giving you some idea of the beauty of the worm. The TC says she didn’t know the video was on, and she was trying to take a still photo. Hah!

Here’s sister slug, aka a tiger slug, a spotted leopard slug and a great grey slug. So many names for such an unassuming creature. I’m making her an honorary worm for this blog post:

Centipedes and slugs in Sydney

That’s all for today, dudes.
Chocolate in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

It’s a pressing question in Sydney these days:

Where can I get a good chocolate?

The Travelling Companion and I have been scouting around to find the best chocolate shops and cafés in Sydney. As a conscientious worm, I feel it’s my civic duty to let you into some of Sydney’s chocolate secrets.

Traveller’s tip

Head to the nearest Max Brenner shop forthwith. Because, as Napoleon is reported to have said when asked why he consumed so much chocolate, it is just yummy.

The book I’m in

Troy, Fall of Kings, by David & Stella Gemmell.

The photos

Guylian has just opened a spanking new chocolate café in Circular Quay. I was there last week, to check out this new addition to the Sydney chocolate scene.

Me at Guylian’s:

The TC was not overly impressed with the chocolate at Guylian’s. She’s a bit particular about her chocolate, is our TC. Rumour has it they plan to open a second shop in The Rocks very soon. Here’s the one in Circular Quay:

Chocolate in Sydney

I go along with the TC and recommend Max Brenner in Manly. This chocolate café is a must for all chocolate lovers. It’s right in Manly Wharf. Just step off the Manly Ferry and straight into heaven:

Chocolate in Sydney

Here’s some of the fare the TC and her friends saw spread before them at Max Brenner:

Chocolate in Sydney

A Lindt Chocolat Café would be my second choice. There are two in central Sydney. The one in Martin Place resides in lofty elegance with Fabergé and a number of big names in the fashion world. I don’t have a photo to show you. (As you can probably guess from the attire in my picture, high fashion is not a world I frequent.) But the TC says that the dark hot chocolate drink is divine. The shop in Martin Place was the first ever Lindt Chocolat Café in the world.

Then they opened another in Darling Harbour, where the dark hot chocolate and rich cakes meet with equal approval from the TC:

Chocolate in Sydney

As well as the cafés, Sydney has a number of take-away chocolate shops. Here’s Haigh’s in the Strand Arcade in George Street:

Chocolate in Sydney

And here’s Darrell Lea also in George Street, on the corner with King:

Chocolate in Sydney

Earlier I mentioned the snooty neighbours of the Lindt café in Martin Place. Darrell Lea has the new Apple Store for a neighbour. Handy if you need a quick iPhone consultation while you wait for your chocolate order:

Apple in Sydney

Choc tactics

I’ve inhabited many a health book which warns you off chocolate. It’s reputedly bad for your skin, bad for your weight, bad for your teeth and your heart… But I’ve also wormed my way through the online archives where people are saying chocolate is good for you. They say there’s no proof that chocolate causes pimples and it may even help to prevent tooth decay by killing off the bacteria.

Confusion reigns supreme. As it usually does.

Perhaps we can learn from history. Chocolate has been around a while. The Central Americans were the first to cultivate the cocoa tree, 1400 years ago. Even way back then, no-one knew what to make of the gift of the bean. Was it the curse of the Aztecs or the food of the gods? Quetzalcoatl, a god himself, was disgraced for passing the secret of chocolate down to humans. The humans, though, were suitably impressed with the gift — especially as it was a powerful aphrodisiac. So much so, that some societies forbade women to use it. Cocoa beans became a strong trading currency. One pumpkin was valued at four cocoa beans. One hundred beans could buy a slave.

Then the Spanish conquered Mexico, and took the magic bean back to Europe. But the Spaniards decided to keep it a secret. So when Dutch and English sailors found these strange dark little objects on captured Spanish ships, they mistook them for sheep droppings and turfed them overboard in disgust.

The rest of Europe finally caught on. Chocolate became the drink of royalty. Doctors recommended it as a cure for almost everything. But then, once again, people started to look askance at the stuff. It was not quite kosher — a drug from deepest, darkest America, an aphrodisiac at that, and perhaps its medicinal properties were a bit too potent for civilised mores.

Confusion was reigning supreme then too. All hail confusion.

Chocolate contains phenyl ethylamine, phenol, phosphorus, magnesium, theobromine, and trace levels of anandamide. Uh-huh…? Phenyl ethylamine is a mood elevator which acts directly on your central nervous system. At low levels, it makes you feel good. But it can also make you paranoid and it is addictive. Anandamide acts on the same pleasure receptors in the brain as marijuana. The other ingredients raise energy levels, increase concentration, improve your mood, and do other good things.

Me and Peg with chocolates by Jessica Walker, Belgian Chocolate Seashells and Coles Belgian mint chocolate:

Chocolate in Sydney

What about the belief that chocolate is a potent love potion? Both Casanova and Sherlock Holmes downed mugs of cocoa for breakfast. So we must deduce that chocolate builds stamina in the brain cells as well as in the other bits. Elementary, my dear worm.

That’s all for today, dudes.
By the light of a gibbous moon

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

Spring has arrived in Sydney. Joy. The birds are awake at 5 a.m. And so is the TC.

Traveller’s tip

Beware of those you meet on your journey.

The book I’m in

Dakota, by Martha Grimes.

This atmosphere-laden book is all about a journey. It’s a good thing I don’t have feet, because the itch would be driving me potty.

The photos

A moody Sydney September moon:

It’s time to catch up with the brood. Drool and Hand have hit it off in a big way, sunny personalities both. Here they are in Drool’s lair.

I spied them there in the darkest hours of the night, scheming and plotting. I distinctly heard Hand say:

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but somehow Wordsworm gives me the creeps.

Is trouble brewing amongst the brood? This worm will keep you informed of all eventualities.

That’s all for today, dudes.
Dikes in Holland

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

The Travelling Companion has been rather sedentary recently, so I’ve been crawling through her photo albums again. I came across some pictures of Holland and some scraps of a letter that she wrote about her encounters with dikes.

This letter is twenty years old, written in April 1988. I thought you would enjoy a bit of ancient history 🙂

We drove along a very impressive dike, which separates the Markermeer from the IJsselmeer. The dike is 29 km long. It is quite lovely to see the open water on each side of the road, with yachts and water-birds dotted all over. A large area east of the Markermeer is reclaimed land, called a polder. There was a plan to reclaim the entire Markermeer, so the dike was built to allow the land to be drained. But evidently they have decided not to do that just yet. One reason why they need more land is that the airport Schiphol is too busy. So they planned to build another one where the water is at present.

North-west of Amsterdam is another polder, eight metres below sea level. There is a canal connecting Amsterdam to the North Sea, and the water in the canal is at sea level. So the canal is well above the level of the roads! It is a very odd experience to see a ship sailing by above you.

A tall tale

Many people have heard the uplifting story of brave little Hans, a Dutch boy who saved his country by sticking his thumb in hole in a dike, to plug an incipient leak. It’s a ridiculous story, really, when you see the size of the dikes.

When the TC was in the Netherlands, she mentioned the tale to a Dutch friend, fully expecting him to acknowledge it as a piece of native folklore. He looked faintly amused and said that he had heard the story but thought it was probably English or American, because no Nederlander would come up with something so silly.

Traveller’s tip

Don’t believe everything they tell you.

The book I’m in

RESTful Web Services, by Leonard Richardson & Sam Ruby.

Technically tranquil.

The photos

Climbing up a dike, somewhere in the Netherlands:

Dikes in Holland

Due to a lamentable lack of labelling (notice the skilful alliteration) I can’t tell you exactly where the TC was when she snapped these shots, except that she was in Holland and on a dike.

To be precise, I can’t even be certain that she was in Holland itself. This may be one of the other provinces of the Netherlands, such as Zeeland.

The view from the top of the dike:

Dikes in Holland

If anyone recognises the dike, or the storm surge barriers in the distance, let me know.

That’s all for today, dudes.
Birdsong in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

Noisy creatures, birds. The Travelling Companion has been up and about, recording the dawn chorus in Sydney’s Northern Beaches. She also found a rather garrulous magpie in Curl Curl. I’ve put some videos on my YouTube site and also posted them below.

There are no photographs of me this time. Sorry to disappoint. I try to avoid appearing in the same space as a bird. On one occasion I did get perilously close to Jonathan, a seagull. There are some pictures to prove it in my blogpost about Surfers Paradise.

Traveller’s tip

The early worm catches the birdsong.

The book I’m in

Cry No More, by Linda Howard.

Linda writes really comfortable books.

The videos

The sun is still below the horizon in Sydney’s Northern Beaches. I don’t know the name of the first bird you’ll hear. Then there’s a raven’s mournful cry and a butcherbird’s yodel:

It’s a bit lighter now. The kookaburras are always naively cheerful this early in the morning. The currawongs chime in, and then the rosellas utter their first chirps of the day:

Here’s the sunrise, pretty enough if you like that sort of thing, with the rosellas still chirping and squawking away (they do that most of the day, I’ve noticed):

A magpie might draw a laugh and a bit of grudging admiration with his performance in this video. The hissing in the background is the sea at Curl Curl:

That’s all for today, dudes.
Red-flowered tree in Sydney

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt. Keep an eye out for the witty but subtle use of puns.

Today’s travel notes

Me, Peg and Hand went for a bit of a stroll today. You’ll remember Hand. We met in Surfer’s Paradise, and he has been one of the Travelling Companion’s companions ever since. I wrote about it here.

Getting back to our stroll. Along the way, we stopped to hang out with Blue. And now I’d like to enlist your help.

Blue is a tall, wide-spreading tree. There are a number like him, in and around Sydney. At this time of year he becomes encrusted with showy red flowers. That’s why I call him “Blue” — because of the red flowers. (Australians have an obscurely endearing habit of calling people with red hair “Blue”. I think it’s their attempt for world recognition in the eccentricity category. Or something.)

How can you help? By telling me what sort of tree Blue is. I’ve searched diligently through the TC’s books but have not been able to pin down Blue’s family. Please take a look at the pictures below.

Traveller’s tip

Trees don’t travel much, but they are good company.

The book I’m in

Poltergeist, by Kat Richardson.

The photos

Me and Peg out on a limb with Blue:

Me and Peg out on a limb with Blue

Hand seeks out the darker corners where fleshy greyish-pink weirdos congregate. As you might have gathered, I’m not much of a botanist and don’t know what these plants are called either:

Hand skulking around in the undergrowth

Zooming out to show a bit more of Blue’s red floral showiness. This outburst happens in late July and early August.

Can you identify this red-flowered tree?

The whole tree:

Can you identify this red-flowered tree?

Hand got a bit out of hand, so I had to tether him at the base of Blue’s trunk. He felt quite at home, because some equally unsalubrious characters had been there before us.

Hand lurking amongst the litter
Sydney winter flora seen from down under

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1.

Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while the TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

From time to time, I’ll say something meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

I’ve been spending some time with flora and Peg recently. You’ll notice me, Peg and flora in the photographs below.

Have you ever been to Cape Town in South Africa? There’s some similarity between the Sydney vegetation and the Cape fynbos. Both specialise in low-key, low-down beauty. It can be hard to find, especially if you’re not a worm. But once you’ve moved past the drabness and started looking at the detail, there are some fairly pretty things to see.

This blog post is about Sydney. I’ll dig up some of the TC’s photographs of the Cape fynbos and write about it soon too. I promise. I know you’ll be eagerly awaiting my next post.

A worm’s eye view is also interesting from another perspective. Often, I get to see the bits that the plants are least proud of.

Traveller’s tip

Don’t ever let yourself be photographed from below. It’s a very unflattering angle.

The book I’m in

Dead Famous, by Ben Elton.

A tip for my fans: Look out for my appearance on the next hip, bigged-up and mad-for-it reality TV show. I’ve had so many requests you’d hardly, like, believe and hey I’ll make my choice soon. One survivor, that’ll be me. I’m, like, dead sure of that.

The photos

Me and Peg hanging out under a rocky overhang with flora:

Sydney winter flora

♥ As a special treat for you the faithful reader, the rest of the photographs are taken from the bottom looking up. That’s my usual perspective on life. It’s what keeps me so humble. ♥

The least flattering end of a bee:

Sydney winter flora

Another bee derriere:

Sydney winter flora

The underside of Old Man Banksia:

Another banksia I do believe, but there’s the faint possibility that I may be wrong:

Sydney winter flora

Some cone clones:

Sydney winter flora

A spray of grass:

Sydney winter flora

It’s difficult to make a flower look bad, even from the bottom looking up:

Sydney winter flora

Another distressingly pretty flower seen from down under:

Sydney winter flora

And here’s the last bottoms-up flower:

Sydney winter flora

Oh dear…

Sydney winter flora seen from down under

That’s all for today dudes.