Do the land and sea look just alike?
This morning, driving home from my Sunday beach walk, I passed the Tourist Information Centre, which had a sign out the front showing its long weekend opening hours. That gave me an idea, so I went back a bit later and found what I was after: a card by a local artist, suitable to send to my accounts officer, the one whose contract isn't being renewed. He is in another state; he's French; and although he's lived in Australia for twenty years, he's never ventured south of the border. Well, maybe to Melbourne, but never to the City by the Sea. So for his leaving card, he's getting this view. (For interest, during the day, I park my car about halfway down the right-hand edge of the card; the office I work in is one block back from that, just out of the picture; the aforementioned Tourist Information Centre (and Maritime Museum) is the triangular patch of buildings at the bottom right; and the beach I walk on is, well, it's that beach.)
Later, I planted a couple of geraniums. There is a garden bed running along the side of the garage, and the only thing that has ever successfully grown there is a geranium. So I bought two more and put them next to the existing one, and watered them in. My watering can is a green metal one, and I usually leave it sitting outside the back door. Sometimes sparrows come and sit on it in the sun. It's very rustic and picturesque.
So I took my watering can and filled it up and started watering the new geraniums. Imagine me, standing there, mindlessly watching the water rain down on my new plants, when I see a twig floating in the watering can. That will get stuck in the spout, I think, and lean down to pluck it out. But it's not a twig. It's a skink! I can see its little legs paddling, and then the wave of the water flips it over so I can see its shiny white belly.
Anyway, I put the watering can on the ground and tipped it on its side so the water flooded out. There was no skink left in the watering can after that, and I couldn't see it on the ground, so I can only assume it scarpered to safety. It must have been having a nap in the watering can when I picked it up. Sorry, little skink.
Later, I planted a couple of geraniums. There is a garden bed running along the side of the garage, and the only thing that has ever successfully grown there is a geranium. So I bought two more and put them next to the existing one, and watered them in. My watering can is a green metal one, and I usually leave it sitting outside the back door. Sometimes sparrows come and sit on it in the sun. It's very rustic and picturesque.
So I took my watering can and filled it up and started watering the new geraniums. Imagine me, standing there, mindlessly watching the water rain down on my new plants, when I see a twig floating in the watering can. That will get stuck in the spout, I think, and lean down to pluck it out. But it's not a twig. It's a skink! I can see its little legs paddling, and then the wave of the water flips it over so I can see its shiny white belly.
Anyway, I put the watering can on the ground and tipped it on its side so the water flooded out. There was no skink left in the watering can after that, and I couldn't see it on the ground, so I can only assume it scarpered to safety. It must have been having a nap in the watering can when I picked it up. Sorry, little skink.