Gibb River Station.
Dust moves like misty rain
A green frog
clings to the corrugated wall
through humid air
and waits for rain
Yesterday, the heat built up until we went swimming in the River right on dusk. Not long after our coming home, the wind arrived from the South and a major storm hit us. Minimal damage here but the power blacked out for the night and is still out in some of the neighbouring valleys.
That leads me to today’s topic about the green frog. We had frogs the night before last. Wee tiny frogs which we get a lot here. I think I squashed one to death in the sliding window – inadvertently. They were hanging on the window of Izzy’s office. Waiting for the rains to come – so it seems.
Up in Ulmarra, we had the big fat green tree frogs and further north in Bilambil and Tumbulgum – the Legendary Cane Toads. I know some really bad cane toad stories. People are obsessed with destroying them and I have seen a normally sane woman and her daughter deliberately aim to drive over them in my driveway, They seemed to be cackling with glee as they did so.
My own favourite cane toad story is about a cane toad and a rhinoceros beetle. I came home to my cottage late one night to find the pair of them in a battle to the death. I thought the CT had the advantage of size, toxicity and its evil reputation but the beetle latched on to the Toad’s nose and I still don’t know who won.
Have to go now – a black jeep is taking me south to Macksville. The rains have come.