Wet and Wild 

I think it was only yesterday that a few of us were in the park with our dogs, congratulating ourselves on the lovely autumn weather. It has been a lovely Perth Autumn, apart for the collapsing economy, the decline of the British Empire and a US President who appears to be using a TV news show to make political decisions.

But not to worry, it’s not as though North Korea is developing its nuclear potential or that hackers attempted to hold a number of global IT systems to ransom on the weekend. It is fine, it will be just fine.

The main problem I have amidst all this turmoil is that it has begun to rain. Every year, at around the time that winter begins, we are given a gentle reminder of how much is it going to rain in Perth, which I think has more or less the same average rainfall as the UK, but which manages it by dumping it in a tight three months rather than drizzling it all over your picnic in summer.

Today the rain came, which meant that the dogs got to wear their raincoats this morning (not because they are cute in raincoats but as a damage limitation exercise for my furniture when they arrive home looking to dry off). It also means the frog has been unearthing itself, steadfastly ignoring the pond I built for it, but not being ignored by Archie who has rekindled his passion for hunting it down. He has now added ‘frog’ once more to the apparently never-ending list of duties that he makes his responsibilities.

Over the weekend he added, ‘Wagtail’ to this list too. I love wagtails, which are possibly the cheekiest birds in WA. Tiny, black and white and really cocky, they are impertinent and fearless and display their careless attitude to threat with their signature move of their black fan shaped tails. This, I am sure the more perceptive among you will be not surprised to hear is a wag.

Over the weekend, a wagtail who had spied a potential snack in our garden, decided to conduct a recce by landing on the clothes lines. At the time the sun was still out and cast his shadow as a larger image on the fence. My husband witnessed this, not me. Archie, apparently sat absolutely transfixed by the spectacle of this giant black bird who had apparently emerged from the fence and was waving at him.

No such sun today, as we raced around the park in double quick time so I could leave early for a meeting. Later, I watched winter lash madly round outside so once again my thoughts turned as they always do at this time of year to my roof, the leak that allows water in when it rains heavily and despite the fact that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, why the hell I still have not done anything about fixing it for the fourth year in a row.


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