Getting ready for a wander this morning with thoughts of a near three quarter of an hour drive, my plans were scuppered. My own doing. I started messaging John, which saw me doing a bit more editing of his near complete book of moderate climbs in Australia. English language was my worse subject at school, by far, so I find it funny that I am checking amongst other things grammar. It has taken some self-education to make sure my advice is correct. However, as most will realise, English is a complex language with many variables:
Several people are assisting as editors. Resulting in differing views being provided on some matters, especially punctuation. Poor old John is feeling a bit like a piggy in the middle, with conflicting advice coming from multiple fronts. To assist he is also doing some of the same self-education I’ve undertaken, to check his options. The end is tantalisingly close. Come Monday it’ll all be done and dusted, in terms of edits and changes, when the book goes to print. My suggestion has been to go with what he prefers, and stick to his guns:
There wasn’t a whole heap that I could contribute this morning. Although it was enough for me to miss my window of opportunity for a walk slightly further away. There was a time limit. Lisa and I were aiming to head out for breakfast at our recently found favourite haunt. Still keen to get into nature meant going to the another old faithful, the Capel Nature Reserve. Days are warmer but last night was cold. Barely breaking past the point where water reaches its maximum density, 4°C. Strolling along my toes were tingling in my safety sandals:
I hardly dared wonder how cold it was for Lisa and the Peppy Plungers this morning. Sticking to their weekend ritual of submerging themselves in the ocean. Later I heard they unanimously agreed it was freezing. My tingling toes, in comparison to them dropping their core temperature, wasn’t worth mentioning when I got home. Happily I was able instead to report on some great finds. Like me a few orchids had also started to notice the warmer days. It was amazing what has since popped up since last weekend, when I spent hours looking:
In the first image, the brilliant vermilion-red colour, looking all the more stunning in the morning light, drew me towards the fungus. For some reason the Scarlet Bracket Fungus (Pycnoporus coccineus) had inverted. Maybe someone had knocked the branch. Luckily for me it allowed a close inspection of the intricate honeycombed structure, created by a myriad of cavities in which the spores are formed. This is a repeat fungus from a few weeks back and the second image is a repeat from last weekend here, a Jug Orchid (Pterostylis recurva):
My reason for including it was not the Jug Orchid but what I saw inside it. More than likely a Flower Spider (Thomisidae), wanting to be left in peace. Quite a few Jug Orchids were in flower, which surprised me as I had not noticed their stems last weekend. Equally I had not seen the stems of Yalgorup Donkey Orchids (Diuris porphyrochila) nor Kemerton Donkey Orchids (Diuris cruenta), shown in the third and fourth images respectively. Yet today they were out in force, made all the more prettier by being covered in tiny dew drops. The last species for this post is the earliest flowering of the Duck Orchids:
A Flying Duck Orchid (Caleana nigrita) not quite ready to put on a floral display. But one John will appreciate, as he has used an image of a Large Duck Orchid (Caleana major) in his book. Sadly a species not found over here. Unlike the above Oak Conk (Fuscoporia gilva) that for some reason caught my eye like the Scarlet Bracket Fungus had, which is found all over. I made it home in time for Lisa and I to head out and grab a relaxing munch and game; followed by a wander at the Ambergate Nature Reserve. Where there was absolutely nothing to see, other than a shy Bobtail Lizard (Tiliqua rugosa) that buried its head in undergrowth:
Sandbagged 