Snippet No 1


From this morning’s online ‘Southland Times’ … makes me ponder a little—how would he/she/it consummate such a wedding? Brrrr …





Boom boom!

I’ve finally shot a New Zealand native fantail (no, wishful thinker, not a dancer—bird) with tail outspread—

—scant zilliseconds before it did what fantails do. It flitted …

But I’m happy! Rapt, in fact!


to flitter around humans. I love their company and in the darker parts of the woods/trees/forest/bush or park they come even closer. Possibly because the road less travelled has more bugs, I don’t know—but here’s one for the experts:

One hung around me for ages, and when I wouldn’t move came even closer. I could have grabbed it were I so inclined (and face it ya silly old goat, if still as fast as you used to be)(once).

He perched on a wee branch low enough to be beaking up at me and chirped and twittered. This, I could handle. But suddenly I became aware that there was a frequent vibration in my right ear, simultaneous with him silently opening and shutting his beak.


I say again that when this was happening I heard nothing (r) nothing, but felt it, only in my right ear, and only when he was beaking. All his chirpings and twitterings I did hear as normal.

And to close, one taken a dozen years ago in another place.

Enjoy …




of the small talk: into it~!

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These guys above were a lot smaller than they look. Tiny in fact. But don’t take my word for it, come here in mushie season and see for yourself (Queens Park, Invercargill).


This wee rodent has reached an accommodation with the birds in my niece’s backyard aviary—he’s no threat to anybody and neither is she, or the birds. Everyone is happy and he gets all the feathers he can eat for free.

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And this is the shot I was looking for but didn’t find yesterday. A tiny wax-eye with a feral apple.

So few of those self-set apples left these days, at the side of what I think must’ve been a coaching road in the horse-drawn carriage age. Travellers chomped their apples and tossed the cores out, cores hold seeds, seeds spill out and some took …

hang in there, Ba-bee.png

Don’t feel cheated if you’ve seen it before—that’s ‘cos I posted it before. That bee was possibly sound asleep or whatever it is bees do when loading up with morning sunlight and warmth and neither of us disturbed the other.  Tiny wee thing.


is a tiny—

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—shot of a larger whiteboard memo thingy. We used to use it for shopping lists and stuff, but She stopped once I’d drawn the above one morning.

Some weeks later we had a cop cold calling, hoping for witness statements concerning something of which we didn’t know much; so we sat him down and he joined us for morning coffee … was fascinated by and just couldn’t take his eyes off it. I think we made a bit of a change from his usual day’s working environment. Nice young guy, already old beyond his years.

We still have it but definitely showing its age now so we keep it tucked out of harm’s way.

Challenge met?

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Here then, have a last final thought—

—the red dots are (wait for it~!) tiny rubies …


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sure beats barkin’

WPC: Vibrant 4

Would you believe


what I did to the camera, to get this vibrant (but just a wee bit unreal) image of the Winton ancestral chapel. The Spouse was in the Op shoppe looking for bargains (behind me as I took the snap) and I was outside looking for targets of opportunity.

I put it down to pure serendipity—

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—which often beats no end of tweaking, fiddling, playing about and/or otherwise trying for that one all-singing all-dancing vibrant colour pic.


of course has been tweaked. I just cannot get a good shot of a hollyhock—

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—so I play around with what I do get.

A purist may well ‘Tut~!’ here, but I ain’t not no purist … thank heavens. Pure can often be a bit boring … Unknown







yes. Possibly. In any detective mystery I always bite the red herring. No, devour would be a better way to put it, gobble even.



“Around 10.45pm, the station forecourt filled with people of an immigrant background. Women literally had to run the gauntlet through the mass of drunk men, in a way you can’t describe,” the report said.

read more:  CLICK HERE

then track back. Either I’m a sucker for a good propaganda campaign or something is definitely unright …


it has to be propaganda, no? Islamics don’t drink alcohol. They religiously abstain ‘cos their paradigm profit prophet (and God) told (commanded!) them not to.

Many women came to officers shocked and crying and reported sex assaults. Police forces were unable to respond to all the events, assaults and offences. There were just too many at the same time.”

Therefore the above source—and all the others like it, quoting their anti-Islam lies—is fabricating. But why?

Well now ...

semper vigilans

No. Yes.

No. They can’t be telling the truth, or reporting actual facts; no, we cannot entertain that notion not for one moment nohow. For shame~!

But what if …


Can’t possibly happen. All lies. As ever I’m a sucker for propaganda …




WPC: Now

Weekly Photo Challenge

‘NOW’ can be boring.



Not often … a genuine card-carrying idiot (first class, boom boom~!) is rarely bored. Bored is for the intelligent bright folks lacking the stimulation they desperately crave.

And now: back to moi.

Herewith (hereunder, actually, for any nit-pickers) some snaps I took on various keep-fit walks in the Winton area. Self explanatory, so I shan’t explain them. Much.

WARNING: graphic imagery follows—

temp river, now (then)

—and it does, too. In the meantime here’s yer now, as it was then, after we’d had a wee bit of rain. The farmer took it well. But then again, he’s had lots of practise. And now, another now—

fielded river, fielded

—not long after the field had dried out (KIDS: don’t try this at home …).

And now (there’s that word again) to prove it was no fluke, here’s a different now—

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—showing he’s a bit low on cows but up on crop at this stage. All good clean fun provided that no-one runs with sharpened harvesters in their hand …

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—and I threw this one in just to show you what a ‘now’ can look like when you let your camera fiddle about with it. SO, for all you philosophically minded good folks out there in bloggo land; what can we conclude from this wee series?

Four shots, each and all of them a very precise spot-on cross section of their very own personal current ‘now’.

  • All of them the same, only quite different.
  • All of them were in the future, once.
  • All of them were the exact present too, once.
  • All of them now are in the past.

And they ever shall be, forever and ever, amen (for any PC genderists amongst us: please feel free to delete ‘amen’ and insert ‘awomen’ as you see fit*).

I still maintain that ‘now’ doesn’t exist.

And it never did.



*  If you think this is being silly—it’s a lot less sillier than some of the stuff the Women’s Lip people kept coming out with back in the halcyon days of invading kiwi pubs waving their bras above their heads to show how equal they were. Some of them (Southland battle-maiden types) were far more equal than most males … brrrrrrr.