Recent rains seemed endless as I remained cabinbound for the week, standing on the wet steps and peering out over the falling autumn leaves at the wet, wet world around me.
Over 300mm of rain fell, encouraging the kikuyu to grow ahead of my efforts once more.
Gum boot shod, hat dripping water down the neck of my Drizabone, each morning I had to at least venture as far as the rain gauge and the diminishing wood heap, as well as checking the batteries in the solar power shed.
The maned wood ducks liked it, and clearly felt secure in this watery world, seeing me restricted to the verandah far more than usual. They nibbled their way at leisure across the yard, much closer to structures than previously.
On the first morning of no rain, I ventured out with the camera. Low cloud still hid the far mountains, and the trees still dripped latent raindrops, but it was good to be out walking.
Water ran over grass like mini-creeks, and water plants flourished in puddles.
Although the horses have been gone for months, their presence is still evident in the rotting lumps of manure scattered here and there. On the track each ball of manure has sprouted tiny fungi, like candles on a cake.
In the house yard, colours are darker, leaves shinier, lichen brighter. The plants look happier than I do – as the rain begins to fall again