We’ve been confined to barracks for such a long time now and it’s clearly not good for either of us. I’ve been missing our walks and Flo has demonstrated her displeasure at missing out on exercise by looking for other ways to amuse herself during the day. None of these ways have amused me. I am running out of places to hide things.
The difficult thing is balancing exercise with not overdoing the sore leg. On Saturday I bit the bullet and took her fabulousness down to the beach early. She wasn’t a terribly well behaved puppy and consequently spent a lot of the time on the lead. Yesterday evening we went for a walk to Holmes Jungle, which is one of our favourite places, with two of our favourite mates, Sunny and Sunny’s mum. We were reminded of the great place we live… on our walk we were accompanied by whistling kites, red tailed black cockatoos, blue faced honey eaters and a dingo. The dingo followed us for a fair way when we were leaving and we doubled back in the car to find it back up at the picnic site throwing a bone in the air and having a whale of a time.
Fire has ripped through the bushland in Holmes Jungle, an annual occurrence and often lit purposely to prevent a build up of fuel. It must only have been a few weeks ago that the back burning took place but already there are bright green cycad leaves appearing alongside other vibrant green shoots. The contrast against the charred wood and earth is pretty spesh and the difference between walking in the wet season and walking post-burn in the dry is quite striking.