A while ago we had a visitor in the night. One of my sisters spied the possum in the tree and so I went out to take photos. I used a tripod and a torch. I had the camera taking long exposure shots on a timer so that my pressing of the shutter would not bump the camera while it took the photo. Then I also had two hands to 'paint' the possum and tree with torch light. The cool thing about using a torch is that I could make the light come from a different angle than the camera or even two angles, by moving around and shining the torch from different sides during the exposure. I had to be careful not to keep the torch in one place to long though because otherwise it got overexposed!

Using a flash would also probably make the possums eyes glow red. I did have that happen in one of the photos but not the rest. I have never got such a clear photo of a wild possum before so I was rather happy with these.

Do you have possums around your place?

Have you ever tired light painting photography?

How many tags/awards are there? And why do most of them get awarded for no particular reason? This one is called the Infinity Dreams Award but what does it have to do with dreams? I cannot answer these questions.

 Well, as you may be able to guess I was awarded another award thanks to (you would not have guessed) Lydia from C'est La Vie, so thank you Lydia. And this award has rules which I have kinda broken as I often do.

Here are those rules: 
Use the Infinity Dreams Award picture
Thank the blogger who tagged you
Tell us 11 facts about yourself
Answer the 11 questions
Tag 11 bloggers

Eleven Facts About Myself:

• I like using my own pictures for things. So I googled Infinity Dreams Award trying to find if the original picture was any better. Which is the original though? As you can see I found lots.
• I have a pet peeve about photos that are not clear or are pixelated or even just almost pixelated. Hence I could not while staying in my right mind use the "Infinity Dreams Award" picture which is probably not the original anyway. SO I used six...aaannd made my own.
• Anyway I spent hours on Friday making the picture at the beginning of this post. And this is a perfect excuse to show it off because is it cool.
• I made the picture out of seven separate images

• I am currently wearing a dark purple cloak for no reason whatsoever and also a purple and white check shirt and jeans.
• I now have my own computer which is so convenient.
• The person in the photo is me and that me has almost published 500 posts on her blog! And want's ideas for what she should do for the 500th post. (I have a few draft posts which make it look like there are already 500)

• I can really walk on spiderwebs...... oh okay, but I can.... they are just squished and trampled in real life.
• I did not take any of the photos deliberately for the picture, I just decided I wanted to make one and looked back through my photos to see what I had.
• I am currently reading: The Roots of Endurance by John Piper
• I can sew shirts, well I have made two (tunic shirt things) one of which I am wearing in the photo. Obviously it would be difficult to wear two at the same time. (and now that is eleven or I can't count)

Lydia's Questions for me to answer:

1. What is your biggest hobby?
Photography, it is a lot bigger than a hobby now and yet it still is that too.

2.Who is your biggest inspiration?
Ah...God and his creation, and his everything.

3. What is your favourite piece of music (can be either classical or modern)?
Whatever I want to listen to at the time... I do rather like the song "I Still Call Australia Home"  I am not musical in a lot of ways but I can sing I don't know how I do I just do and according to musical people I sounds really good, and they are the musical ones, so I believe them.

4. What is something you wish you knew more about?
A Time To Rise..... I want to know what happens but it is not published yet and so I wait. Other than that I just wish I could remember stuff I already know.

5. What is your favourite quote?
My favourite! I have no favourite, too many, but here are the ones I have added to my goodreads quotes place most recently.

6. What is something you look forward to doing each day?  
Eating breakfast .

7. What is your favourite way to get exercise?
Um....walking... playing badminton...neither of which I do often enough.

8. Describe yourself in three sentences:
I am thoughtful, and like to know things, but I am good a keeping secrets, probably because I forget them. I stand and watch and don't like large groups, but I really like talking in small groups or one on one; I am better at listening than talking unless you get me onto a subject that I am passionate about. If you wanted to know what I look like then use your eyes and look at the photo of me. back near the beginning of this post, or the one on the sidebar.

9. What has been your biggest life achievement so far?
Having my own photography business.

10. What is something you learned recently?
Sometimes things are not worth doing if they are not worth dying for. "If it is not worth dying for it is not worth doing" If you know it is right and biblical you should be doing it even if you may 'die' (or be heavily persecuted) for it. I was struck by this one because it has come up in my lectures on world view things, and on a video we watched and possibly some other place too.

11. Where is the most interesting place you have ever gone?
Well there was this time I walked on spiderwebs, and another when I went to Elsewhere and I found that I could change whatever I wanted, but I also wanted to to be believable so everything has to happen so that people would still have enough suspension of disbelief  (Elsewhere is the world my novel is set in). I don't know which was the most interesting, but recently I was just sitting on a lounge babysitting and I drifted off to a far place or cyborgs, princes and Luna queens. So I suppose I have been many kinds of interesting places. 

Okay now I need to tag/award other people if you don't want to do it that is fine, but if you do have fun:

Sarah @ Novus Papilio
The other Sarah @ Trusting in the Lord
Emily @ Amity
Jessica @ Dreams Really do Come True
Julia @ The Barefoot Gal
Sophie @ The Techno Maid
Zach @ Zach's Abode
Rosie @ Rosie's Treehouse I will tag you just so see if you are still alive there, I have't heard from you for so long.
Hannah,Anna,and Emma @ The 3 Musketeers That actually makes 11 if I count each of you as one :D

Here are your questions:

1. Do you often dream when you sleep?
2. What is the scariest dream you have ever had?
3. What is one of your dreams for yourself for the future?
4. What is one for your dreams for the world?
5. How many tags/awards have you done?
6. What is a question you want to answer?
7. Can you answer it for me now?
8. What is your favourite dreamy/relaxing music or soundtrack?
9. What is infinity times eleven?
10. What is a dream of yours that had been fulfilled?
11. What place have you been where the scenery seems to go on for an infinite distance?

Have fun!

A While ago I made a pretty candle holder thing. It is quite a easy quick craft that is fun for all ages. I actually ended up making this one after helping my brothers each make one, and theirs looked so nice that I wanted one too!

To read of and glimpse the first part of the day read this post. For the second part, all you have to do is continue on. 

I have no photos of this event so you shall have to imagine it from my words, and really when it is as dark as the other night, even I can not take a really good photo. 

Motes of hay drift up, hay that has the slightest dampness to it. We leave our places, by the warm fire crackling behind us. We leave the orange glow and settle down on the hay and lean back against another bale. All along the trailer people talk, I am too far away to hear most of what is said. Wordless voices rise high and fall. 

Rumbles of the tractor engine drown out some of the voices. It lurches forward throwing us all sideways and against one another. Red taillights flash, the head lights cut a bright swathe through the grass as we turn and bounce on. We leave the flickering flames behind. Not a trace of their warmth is left. Chords, strummed on strings. Upon one of the topmost bales a shadow sits strumming her guitar. I reach out and touch her as she plays. 

Music wafts through the star spangled night. Overhead the Milky Way stretches, stars glow brighter as we leave other lights behind. The two pointers shine bright, I follow their pointing with my eyes and find the Southern Cross. It shines right overhead in the middle of the misty streak across the heavens, the  Milky Way. I wonder at the vastness of he who names the stars. His Glory is plain if we only but look. 

We rattle past round bales, fences, a dam. Six wallabies start up in surprise as we rumble towards them, fixing them in the tractors headlights. They flee in all directions, we give chase. "Kangaroos" comes the shout, "Look, there!" Voices exclaim, hands point. Some of the wallabies hop along a fence, trying desperately to get away. They bound through the grass and melt into the darkness.

The tractor and its heavy load rattle away to into the darkness. Back to the fire, back to warmth. As we go voices are raised in song from the rear of the trailer. As those in the middle can't make out the words we begin our own. Song, laughter, hay, starry skies, a beautiful memory, a beautiful world, a great God.

That just says it all

As I stole out of the house and down the silent streets a poem by Banjo Paterson echoed through my head. I memorized it years ago and it came flooding back as it played out in real life before me.

Sunrise on the Coast A.B. "Banjo" Paterson

Grey dawn on the sand-hills -- the night wind has drifted

All night from the rollers a scent of the sea;

With the dawn the grey fog his battalions has lifted,

At the call of the morning they scatter and flee.

Like mariners calling the roll of their number

The sea-fowl put out to the infinite deep.

And far over-head -- sinking softly to slumber --

Worn out by their watching, the stars fall asleep.

To eastward, where resteth the dome of the skies on

The sea-line, stirs softly the curtain of night;

And far from behind the enshrouded horizon

Comes the voice of God saying "Let there be light."

And lo, there is light! Evanescent and tender,

It glows ruby-red where 'twas now ashen-grey;

And purple and scarlet and gold in its splendour --

Behold, 'tis that marvel, the birth of a day!

One candle stood in a corner. It looked silently out over the room; it could not see to the rooms extent, the candle did not even know if there were other edges. Hundreds of thousands of candles stood in the shadowy room.  A few of the candles had faint lights on them, some sputtered, but most were dark. In one place nearby, a group of lighted candles stood together right next to each other. Each little flame melded together to create one roaring tower of light that could be seen by many more candles. The group of candles dispersed, each leaving with more fire atop it than it arrived with. They went out and mingled with the unlit candles. 

From the corner the candle watched, many of the dark candles leaned towards a flaming candle as he passed them. The flaming candle stopped in amongst a huddle of dark ones, as he left the wick atop one he had just spoke with sputtered into life, a faint glow, but still a glow. 

Sadly some of the lighted candles walked about with their arms shielding their light as if they were afraid it would be blown out if someone else saw it. Others hid their light, ashamed of the shadows it seemed to cause, though really all it did was show the truth. Still others selfishly kept their light hidden so only they could use it to guide their path. Candles around these ones never had any idea they were near lighted ones. 

The candle in the corner stopped watching the others as she heard a strange sound. Following it she came to a small group of candles. Their wicks were faintly lighted or sputtering. With a smile she walked into the midst of them. They gathered round and gazed at her light. As the little group came together their wicks touched and a great tower of light shot up. They soon parted, but each candle now held their heads high, showing their light to anyone watching. 

The candle from the corner kept on moving through the darkness. At times she saw one of the candles beside her start to sputter, other times she had long passed on before her light lit theirs. Most of the time she only warmed their wax, but that prepared them for when another lighted one passed their way then they too burst into flame. 

One candle had time only to light one other before he melted away, but that other burned bright. The one candle that the candle of short time lit went on to light many others, and warm or bring to sparks many more. When others lights flared up, they too lit still more.

In one place, too many candles away for our corner candle to see, a bright burning candle refused to go out. Other candles entrenched in their darkness noticed his flame and for fear of it catching, took him away. Still his light shone. So they bent him, they battered his light. They failed their mission. The battering of his light only caused sparks to fly; the distances some of them went were incredible. Finally the dark ones smashed him to pieces until he was no more, but his light had already given many others light of their own.

One lighted candle can make a difference, yet each does in different ways. Let your light shine. Give the Light time to catch, light up the darkness.

And here is the last part. If you have not read parts One and Two then it would make much more sense to do so before reading part three.

To refresh your memory; Turning, she gazed a moment at the children. Jill stepped up next to her, “They are so sad. Can we help?” she whispered. The lady’s eyes sparkled. Keeping her voice low the lady replied, “Yes, help me get their halters off.” Her eyes went to Col’s pocket.

I thought this photo I took yesterday would go well! I did edit a little horn in...

Jill held out her hand with the shining figure in it, “Are these yours?”

“No dearest, but they are a sign. Keep them, and guard them well.” The lady’s pure white hair fell glimmering over her shoulder as she bent and closed Jill’s fingers around the unicorn.

Jill, Col and the white lady moved among the carousel beasts, and the harpist played. Col struggled with a silver buckle, but finally it undid and he slipped one halter off. He put it over his arm and slipped another off. Jill watched the woman, she had only to touch a halter and it slid off or broke with a tinkle. She placed each one into a pouch at her side.

As the last halter jingled into the bag, the lady spoke again, “You may hop on if you like, they won’t mind.” She motioned to the carousel beasts.

Who won’t? Jill wondered, but she did not intrude on the sound of the music which now swelled, humming along shafts of moonlight. The carousel began to spin, faster and faster. Wind whipped saddle cloths and tassels and gripped at the children’s delighted grins, the mystical unicorn appeared. This time something different happened though. The creature galloped forwards. Loud cracking and snapping noises pierced the night. Both children felt a strange warmth under them. Hair blew into Jill’s face, and she lost grip of the twisted pole. Her hands found only soft hide of an animal and hair, long thick, silver hair. Jill’s teeth clacked together as hooves hit the ground. Wide eyed, Jill looked at the moonlight shimmering all around her. The moonlight had hair and legs, hooves and bodies. Jill felt herself slipping and grabbed larger handfuls of the hair. The saddle fell to the ground, but Jill stayed astride. Col, on one of the inner unicorns had not yet broken free.

All the beasts that had transformed cavorted around, making it hard for Jill to see exactly what happened. In a moment all the creatures were free. Shouts came from the town, focused illumstones flashed out into the moonlight. Jill noticed that the music had stopped, and the black haired minstrel completely disappeared. People came running. The unicorns ran too, with the same speed that the carousel had turned at before. The last coloured saddle and blanket thumped to the ground. Forty nine gleaming unicorns disappeared into the trees. All glowed white except for the one which had a mane and tail black as the deepest shadow. That one had a different horn to the rest and also still carried a pack of some kind, very oddly shaped.

Col and Jill found themselves standing just outside the entrance of the inn they had crept out of only minutes before. The white lady touched each of their heads. “Guard your charges well, they are not living but they have power, when you are older you may find it. Peace now, in you go.”

The twins crept back into the inn. Out the window they thought they saw a last flash of silver hair and heard hoof beats, yet not a trace of the lady that just bid them farewell. “Unless,” Jill and Col whispered in the same breath, “Unless…” They both looked at each other sharing the thought. As sleep pushed their eyelids closed, a fiftieth unicorn, whiter even than the others, and with a smooth horn, galloped in the direction of the others.

A sketch I did with some other randomness added...

I hope that finished in a "finished" way, but after all it is just a small story set in a greater one..... the greater one is just not finished yet. If you have any questions though I'll answer them if there are answers to them. So ask away and tell me what you thought.

A light rain fell, speckling my already damp clothes. There were no shadows, just blackness, and one spot of light. The warm gold light, spilled a little way out into the darkness from the hall behind us. A wind blew straight through my damp clothes and lifted my heavy denim skirt off my legs. The wind brought a chill as it passed straight through me almost as if I were not there. Music swirled through the blackness. Making its way from the hall and out into the perpetual shadow of night, it also passed by me, as did the wind. The beat of feet on wooden floors thrummed faintly, mingled with the music, and came to me, out in the night. Shadows, rain, wind, light, and music all combined and caught me in their spell for a moment, holding me for eternity. Then a voice called me away. I left.

Fisck hummed through the evening air towards her favourite haunt; the cave of unguarded skins. She darted straight towards the small tear in the gauze, and slipped inside. Heat radiated from three bodies in the room. The time had not yet come for they were still moving around. So she rested behind the stiff curtain of blue that hung down from the roof, waiting good-naturedly.

Fisck listened as another of the Sanguinarius entered the room. She was not as patient as Fisck though. She buzzed through the air straight towards one of the heat sources who were not yet still. The buzzing stopped and began then stopped, Fisck continued to wait. A sharp slap echoed through the room. The Foolhardy One tumbled to the floor with the life crushed out of her.

As one of the elder Sanguinarius, Fisck knew how to bide her time. She knew it paid in the end, with blood. Lights winked out. Soon the only sounds in the room were slow breathing. The time had come. Fisck’s wings hummed as she flew through the cool night air towards the warmest heat source. She alighted on the wall and surveyed her prey. One of the Unguarded Skins lay spread out before her, arms, a leg, a head and neck, inviting her touch. 

Fisck dived down. The Unguarded Skin turned over, and Fisck zipped back up into the air. A soft murmur, then stillness came over the room. She hummed downwards and settled onto a wrist of the Unguarded Skin. There is skill even in where to take the blood from, in some places it is sweet and in others not so, in some places blood springs easily and in others it takes too long. Fisck had hunted for many weeks and by now was numbered with the experts.

Fisck plunged her sharp proboscis deep into the Unguarded Skin’s flesh and sucked. Blood drained into her gut. The surface under her feet twitched. The Unguarded Skin shuffled and slapped at her wrist, far too late, for Fisck now sat on the frame of a picture on the wall.

A few minutes later Fisck hummed down again and landed on the leg that stuck out from the covering, again drawing blood from her victim. A growl followed closely by a slap broke the stillness, but only after the quiet hum of mosquito wings. The Unguarded Skin pulled all her limbs under the sheet and listened to the zzzzzzzzz of Fisck wings as she circled. Fisck landed on the warm cheek of her almost sleeping quarry. The blood had a warm sweetness that satisfied Fisck greatly. 

For a second Fisck struggled to get away from the thrashing of sheets, and arms. She almost got stuck under a fold of cloth. Only one more bite and she would be full. But now the Unguarded Skin had covered herself in folds of the sheet. Fisck returned to the wall, waiting. 

Under the sheet the Unguarded Skin could not breathe properly and the cool night air could not get to her. She uncovered her head and stuck out one hand and foot. From her post Fisck noticed the movement. She buzzed downwards. While the Unguarded Skin thrashed and stilled and rolled over and lay still again Fisck took her chance and got the last sip from a finger and one for luck from the Unguarded Skin’s arm.

Sated, Fisck flew away into the night. She didn’t stay to hear the scratching noise, followed by rustlings and muttering that continued long into the light.

So dear Fisck, you have my permission to show this to the Sanguinarius. Go and rejoice at how famous you are, get to full of blood and explode. Obliterating all of your kind in the process. Sincerely, all of the Unguarded Skins.

The chooks start cackling and crowing and then I hear the all the corellas, galahs and cockatoos in the vicinity of the chook yard begin. Knowing what that noise heralds, I run outside and sure enough a goanna is hauling itself slowly towards the nest box. I chase it off, but not far. It goes up the nearest tree and the raucous sqwarks of the corellas who are nesting in the tree grow louder. 

Goannas - or to be specific, the sort we have here are Lace Monitors - are on the move at this time of the year. Climbing from tree to tree looking for the eggs of any bird they can find. Of course they also make regular trips to my chook yard each day. In fact I got interrupted writing this by frantic noises form the chook yard and raced outside to find a Lace Monitor prowling around under the mulberry tree, my nest box had already been raided.

On the 12th we had a rather exciting bird adventure. Late that evening we found a baby Satin Bowerbird. The little thing must have just left the nest (possibly not intentionally) and could not really fly. It fluttered around getting tangled in the long grass. We had set a cat trap earlier, because of yet another dumped cat sneaking around. The little bowerbird didn't stand much chance that night, what with cats, foxes and the fact that it seemed to be headed over towards the neighbors and therefor their dog. The Noisy Miners were also intent on dive bombing it. So we caught the young bird (after a few attempts) and put it in a cage for the night.

The mother bird hung around, always somewhere nearby. Then in the morning we let the baby bird out. I had also managed to catch a rather grumpy cat in the trap. The baby Satin Bowerbird sat in the back of the cage till we left and then it flew out to the ground and hoped along after its mother. I then chased the poor thing with my camera and as you can see got some photos. I chased it up into a big bush were it should stay safe especially since there is one less cat prowling around.

One less beautiful eye predator out there to get the birds. But just last night mummy heard another bird scream as something made it into a tasty meal.

The Little Corellas like our Chinese Elm tree. I watched a flock of them settle down on it and the surrounding palm trees. They intently snipped at the leaves and twigs, breaking them off and sprinkling the ground with them. One of the corellas dangled upside-down holding on by only its claws. The bird hung there for a while, until another corella  landed next to it and bent the branch further. The corella flapped wildly and plummeted to the ground, but rose almost straight up, just before it crashed into the grass.

Two Little Corellas (another sort of Corella is the Long-billed Corella)

One cloudy windy evening

Girls twirled atop a hill

They spun in the waning light

Then they were still

“Voiceless it cries,

Wingless flutters,

Toothless bites,

Mouthless mutters.” 

~J.R.R. Tolkien

I had a lot of fun taking these photos... standing on a road does always add that other element of "Quick get off a car is coming." Which invariably happens just when I have got everyone standing right where I wanted them. Which is what happened with the above photos. Perseverance... If at first you don't succeed try, try again!

  

Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.

~John Ruskin

That feeling of fresh air

Battering my face

The wind in my hair

As I continue to race

Until I come home

To my home, my safe place

Who Has Seen the Wind?

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

~Christina Rossetti

The sunlight pours down

Through a rift in the cloud

Yet the sun still is hidden

Wrapped in a grey shroud

All about, but cannot be seen,

Can be captured, cannot be held,

No throat, but can be heard.

~Unknown

A Riddle: A cloud was my mother, the wind is my father, my son is the cool stream, and my daughter is the fruit of the land. A rainbow is my bed, the earth my final resting place, and I'm the torment and saviour of man.  

The answer is not WIND ...(yes that is the answer to the other riddles but not this one).... "Wind is my father".... what am I? 

Have a guess?

Black billows rolling, a sea in the sky

Stretching farther than the eye

Can see, turning into a grey

Billowing mass, as they trundle further away

Streaks run down, a watercolour painting of rain

Washing the sky, to a smooth grey plane  

Hovering further out, in the blustery air 

The clouds turn lighter grey, quite far

The wind rushes along as, all day it has

And brings the rain, here again

Pounding round, to soak the ground

Thunder rolls high, rocking the sky

Rolling out, like a giant shout

The rain comes down 

Then Samuel came up and said, "do you think there are three robbers sitting in a cave?" Because at that time the sun hid behind the storm clouds described above and night had almost come and every one knows... (and if not I am about to remedy that) 

That

One dark and stormy night. Three robbers sat in a cave. One of them asked to be told a story, and this is how it goes: One dark and stormy night. Three robbers sat in a cave. One of them asked to be told a story, and this is how it goes: One dark and stormy night. Three robbers sat in a cave. One of them asked to be told a story, and this is how it goes: One dark and stormy night. Three robbers sat in a cave......

And there is the other version that does actually end which we made up.

One dark and stormy night. Three robbers sat in a cave. One of them asked to be told a story, and this is how it goes: One dark and stormy night. Two robbers sat in a cave. One of them asked to be told a story, and this is how it goes: One dark and stormy night. One robbers sat in a cave. There was no one there to tell him a story so he cried.

I had my first try at long exposure shots of traffic the other evening. Considering I have never done it before I think it worked quite well.

What is your favourite photo? I took the last photo standing on an island in the middle of the road.... I thought I'd specify that because I have had a few people go "Where were you standing!" Earlier.... before it got dark I had a few people going past, lean out their window and shout at me to take their photo.... I did, but funnily enough they only looked like a streak of light.... One lady even took a photo of me on her phone as they went past.... no doubt it didn't turn out well..... I had a lot of strange looks and my fingers froze.... and almost fell off.... but I had fun.

When I took the middle photo I was standing beside a hedge that must have been full of crickets they were so loud... I just can't decide what photos I like best though. None of them are spectacular but they are interesting, and most importantly they did work. Which ones do you like best?

There are no photos of it because it could cause my Dad too much pain. Like the pain that one of the other hikers..walkers... got when they sat on a leaf of a stinging tree... you may be able to see some of the poison filled spines in the photo. 

I drove my dad and Alice and Jane up the nice, narrow, dirty, pot holed, tracks to get to the start of the guided walk we were going on. The road... if you can call it a road, was surprisingly good in a few places, but there was one particular pair of pot holes... I saw the car in front bounce as it went through and I asked my dad what I should do and of course he said "Just drive straight through it and don't stop." I did. The car went down, the mud and water went up all over the car and the middle of the car scraped on the mud in the middle of the two pot holes...

We also had to pass a few other cars... Passing a car on a one lane dirt track is not the most un-nerve-racking thing to do. Sometimes there is enough room but other times... there is not enough to be in the least bit comfortable. We got there and surprisingly the driver of the car behind me was impressed with my driving and not at all bothered with my sensible speed of driving.

Then we went a-walking through trees and stinging plants. I managed not to get got until the very end, then I got an entire stinging nettle leaf on my arm... we occasionally got a sight of mountains through the trees.

According to this sign there were....could have been surveillance cameras in use....in this area...why I have no idea... 

We walked quite briskly....especially for taking photos, so mostly I waited until the way back. The track got quite muddy and slippery at times, I found I had to look where I put my feet to avoid falling in the mud. One time we heard what sounded first like a baby crying then we thought it sounded more like a cat. It was apparently a Catbird. 

Fungi, especially the little red ones, were everywhere beside the trail... and poor little squished ones on it. Some trees were really huge and one had fallen across the path so we had to walk under it. Fungi grew on nearly all the logs.

On the way back I ended up in the middle of two groups of people so I had time to get photos without being in peoples way, and I also got glimpses of some birds and heard many more.

It got rather dark by the time we got back. I used a flash for all the macro shots I took of fungi and strange spiky plants. I had to. The sun was on the other side of the hill we were walking around and there was so much rain forest everywhere that even if the sun had been out, I don't think the light would be so good.

In the mud splattered car on the way home I had a bit of fun playing with exposure and the reflector lights beside the road. I also took the original photo of the stars...which is not this one either... this is it without words on it when we stopped for a while to call home.