Their place — and mine

Out in the real forest it is always a matter of double-take with our cleverly camouflaged creatures; I think I see a dark shadow sway, a tree trunk bend. Kangaroo? Wallaroo? One blink and they might be gone.

As majestic as the trees that give them cover, this is how I best like to see them.

But now that my house yard is their territory too, I get different, more domestic views of my macropod neighbours. In the early mornings, as the sun begins to soak up the dew and highlight the trees, it now also picks out fluffy ears, closed sundrowsing eyes, busily feeding backs, and the many babies, cosily enpouched or skittishly out-pouched.

These red-necked wallabies rule of a morning; the kangaroo and the wallaroo families visit mostly at dusk.

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