Many decades ago I grew up in Sydney, where I spent a lot of time playing on and under the harbour, and ducks were not something that I remember in that body of water from my childhood. However, on Boxing Day 2021 I was on Sydney Harbour in my trusty Riot Brittany 16.5 blue kayak photographing an Australasian Darter on Shark Island’s rocks when I heard a long splash in the water behind me. In the initial milisecond after hearing the disturbance in the water my mind’s processing of that noise made me think it was a shark but when I quickly looked around I was relieved to see that a pair of Chestnut Teals had just skimmed to a landing on the surface behind my kayak. I was not really expecting to see teals on Sydney Harbour. As I wrote above, I had grown up around the harbour, where I had done a lot of paddling, snorkelling and scuba diving and I don’t recall seeing ducks on the harbour. Now I was back there on a vacation so I was surprised to see the Chestnut Teals calmly swimming past my kayak on the harbour. Those awesome birds were just one example of the natural beauty that can still be found around the busy shore of Sydney Harbour. While the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House are the world famous icons of the harbour city, I am glad that the wildlife is still there, surviving among the human activities in a busy harbour. While it was only a few days, I really enjoyed the short time back in Sydney, having an opportunity to kayak on and snorkel in Sydney Harbour. I hope that you enjoy the photographs below.
Sydney Harbour, or its more correct name of Port Jackson, is Sydney’s port. The city has grown up around the harbour, initially from a small group of dwellings near where the Sydney Opera House is. There is not much of the shoreline that the city has not covered and the urban sprawl has not always been kind to this important body of water. The harbour has suffered from pollution, over-fishing, over-use and just general neglect. However, in recent years the authorities have put effort into understanding the harbour better so that it can be managed properly. The harbour has an amazing array of animal life but a wide variety of threats put the habitat at risk. There is a massive challenge to preserve the ecosystem of this amazing harbour while Australia’s largest city still places social, cultural and economic demands on this key waterway.
Water level shot of Sydney Harbour including the Bridge and the Opera House
(Apple iPhone 8 [ISO 20, 3.99mm, f/1.8 and 1/2000 SEC])
Geologically, the harbour is a drowned river valley that the Parramatta River formed 300-220 million years ago. The river cut through the bedrock leaving a wide harbour mouth and stark cliffs on either side of the entrance. The cliffs on the southern side run along the coast to some of Sydney’s most iconic ocean beaches including Bondi Beach. The cliffs are weather-beaten with aching cracks and crevices from their ongoing fight with the sea. Every day the elements work to reduce the cliffs, waves pounding and wind gouging. The cliffs will stand for millions more years, a wall of sandstone protecting the harbour. While I was in Sydney I visited these cliffs late on Christmas Day, just before sunset, viewing them from the some what misnamed, Diamond Bay Reserve, where there was no bay just cliffs. The cliffs faced east so were mostly in shadow by the time I arrived. The ambient light situation was not helped by the overcast skies making the choppy, waved tossed surface of the Pacific Ocean an unfriendly grey. White water crashing into the base of the cliffs did not seem any more welcoming. It swirled angrily around the barnacle encrusted rocks, knowing that with each wave it was taking a grain from the rock. The coming eons would see patient waves win the contest against the cliffs but for now the rocks stood strong against the violent sea.
The colours of the cliffs were visible patchwork even in the fading later afternoon light. The exposed sandstone had different hues of yellow and orange, some more saturated more than others. There were also darker stains from dripping algae-carrying water that spilled down the face of the rocks. That face was lined with age, where the conditions were causing cracks to split across the cliff at the strata that time had laid down over millions of years when the earth was so different.
I took a moment to look at the base of the cliffs. An angular stone jutting from the sea caught my eye. It seemed to have fallen there at a much older time, perhaps unwitnessed by humans. It was covered with marine growth but seemed to resemble an animal’s head, looking up to the safely of where it had come from as the waves tried to push it under. To me. Tthis little vignette told the the tale of struggle of this cliff. A story that started well before we were here and will probably still be going once we have yielded earth’s stage to the next dominant species.
Late on an overcast Christmas Day, looking south from Diamond Bay to North Bondi with its tower
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1000, 100mm, f/11 and 1/400 SEC])
Colour in the sea cliff
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2000, 124mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
Waves hitting the rocks below the cliffs
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 3200, 278mm, f/8.0 and 1/1000 SEC])
If a person so desired to swim past those cliffs then in through the heads of Sydney Harbour to stroke along the southern side of the harbour they would pass most of the area that I spent time at. When the harbour became broad, if they kept swimming along the south they would come to the shallow, wide waters of Rose Bay, the furthest I went from the heads. In just the small area that I visited, I was intrigued by the marvellous animals that lived in this populous harbour city.
The first bird that I photographed, albeit with my iPhone, was a patient Australian Pelican (Pelecanus conspicillatus) that decided to use a restaurant balcony as a convenient place to perch. The large white bird did not seem to be waiting for food scraps because I doubt that the restaurant would want to attract birds to its premises, it just seemed to like the perch. The bird kept its gaze towards where the customers were but was reasonably comfortable with people. If somebody approached it too quickly, or directly, it would slowly waddle along the wall to a spot a little further away before turning to wait and watch. However, when people approached it slowly, even walking backwards like my wife did for a photograph, it was very calm and normally stayed still. I always enjoy seeing pelicans so I was glad that it was the first bird that I saw on that trip. I took it as a good omen.
Australian Pelican using a convenient balcony to rest on
(Apple iPhone 8 [ISO 20, 3.99mm, f/1.8 and 1/1500 SEC])
Another reassuringly familiar bird was a Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae) that had decided that a television antenna on a house roof was the perfect perch. The bird was master of all it surveyed and would have had a multi-million dollar view of Sydney Harbour from that position. However, it may have been hard to spot prey because the houses would have obscured the ground where the good food would have been crawling. Maybe the bird was looking for something else. These birds normally prey on small reptiles, amphibians and similarly sized animals. Their ‘laugh’ or call is very familiar and also very reassuring.
Laughing Kookaburra using a house antenna as a convenient vantage point
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 200, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
Looking at an animal that a kookaburra may eat I did not find this Olive-green Coastal Katydid (Austrosalomona falcata), it found me. I was returning from a snorkel and when I reversed into the driveway of the house that we were staying at I noticed an object in the black coloured housing around the passenger side mirror. A second look revealed it was a sizeable insect, about 7cm long. Once I parked our car, I grabbed the camera with a macro lens and flash, which I had right beside me in the car, to take some photographs. I am not sure if I picked this insect up where I had been parked while snorkelling or whether it had originally travelled with me the whole morning when I left the house. Once I took some photographs, I folded the car mirrors inwards to give it some protection because its camouflage was not doing too well where it currently was. This poor insect probably was using my mirror housing, which folds inwards when the car is locked, as a daytime hideaway ahead of its nocturnal roaming in search of flowers and fruit to eat.
Olive-green Coastal Katydid in my car mirror
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
Very early on I saw this fungi on a log and thought that it looked interesting.
I also saw a beautiful pink flower growing out from a mass of Golden Cedar. I really liked the pink against the golden-yellow, thinking that it made a wonderful colour contrast.
Fungi around the end of a sawn log
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 800, 104mm, f/11 and 1/160 SEC])
Purple flowers growing trough a Golden Cedar shrub
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 200, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
Of course, when talking about biomass, most of the wildlife in Sydney Harbour is aquatic but that does not mean that you necessarily have to descend below the surface to see some examples of these organisms. An easy way to see some of the wonderful marine life is by rambling around the rocks at the harbour’s edge. There are plenty of rocky shores that are exposed at low tide, with a very low risk of any waves sweeping over them.
A species of crab that I saw in many spots was the Purple Swift-footed Shore Crab (Leptograpsus variegatus), also called the Variegated Crab. These crab moved quickly over the rocks but could stand absolutely still as the water rose and fell around them. One even raced into a small rockpool, fully submerging but still walking along the bottom before walking out the other side into a small crevice, all without a noticeable difference in its speed. This species of crab varies in colour, probably the source of the name variegated, but the claws are normally purple and white. I found it hard to get a good shot of one because once they detected me they quickly withdrew into a nearby crevice. The one in the photograph below, was the one that charged through the rockpool. Before it went deep into its hiding spot, it stood slightly further out with its right-hand legs straight out on the top rock, where they were almost quivering, like it was doing some form of athletic stretching. Nothing seemed to come of this stance because when I edged closer, it scurried under the top rock as the photograph shows.
Purple Swift-footed Shore Crab hiding in a crevice
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1000, 300mm, f/7.1 and 1/400 SEC])
Another creature that was easily observable were barnacles, such as this Rose-coloured Barnacle (Tesseropora rosea). These are crustaceans that secure their heads to the rock and then filter feed with their limbs. They are more closely related to the crab pictured above rather than the shells shown a little below. This barnacle had not been weathered enough so it was not showing the colouration that comes as the outer shell is eroded away, revealing the rose tint that gives these animals their common names. The opening at the top of the barnacle is a rough pentagonal shape.
Rose Coloured Barnacle
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
A common example of the echinoderm phylum is the Small Green Seastar or Dwarf Cushion Star (Parvulastra exigua). These seastars that are about the size of a twenty cent coin are easily seen along the rocky shores of the harbour. These animals feed on microscopic algae, which seem to be in abundance in the photograph below.
Small Green Seastar
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
This Snakeskin Chiton (Chiton pelliserpentis) was in the bottom of a rockpool and looked rather old, with its eight, smoothly worn plates and covered in algae. This chiton gets its name from the pattern around its skirt that seems to resemble snakeskin. It is a common animal on rocks, with its singular, mucus secreting foot it is very hard to dislodge. Chitons feed on algae and other small vegetation. They give the appearance of being stationary but they do move around. They can also detect the difference between light and dark with some species preferring to be in dark crevices or under rocks.
Snakeskin Chiton in a small rockpool
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1000, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
A true sedentary bivalve is the gastronomically famous Sydney Rock Oyster (Saccostrea glomerata). This sharp edged shell is found naturally around the harbour although normally in a clumps attached to rocks, wharfs or other permanent structures. This shell was by itself and had reached a large size. I also liked the colours on the shell, and the growth lines that were visible as were some chips that showed this shell was an old one, these shells can live up to 10 years. It is probably safe from human consumption in Sydney because the chemicals present in the working harbour make eating filter feeding shells a risky proposition. Still, I liked how this shell was a survivor. There are plenty of natural predators but this solitary shell was growing strongly in an open position.
Large, single Sydney Rock Oyster
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
The Mulberry Whelk or Black Oyster Borer (Tenguella marginalba) is a ferocious predator of other seashells and barnacles. Or at lest as ferocious as a slow moving gastropod can be. It is not like a cheetah hunting a gazelle on the African savannah, it is much slower. The whelk moves across the rock until it encounters its prey, then its uses its raspy radula or tongue and possibly its acid-like saliva to bore a hole in the shell of its meal. Once the hole is large enough the whelk will cut the other animal into bits that can be extracted through the whole and consumed. The hole making may take almost a day to complete. If this predator has a good hiding spot and food is plenty then it will not move far on its daily wanderings.
Mulberry Whelk
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
Little Blue Periwinkles (Austrolittorina unifasciata) are so under appreciated, perhaps because they are so small so their beauty is hard to see. I really like these shells because of their colour and texture so I always look to photograph them. This particular one was on the end of a wooden cross beam on a wharf. The wooden end had been burnt at some stage and it was about 75cm off the ground, so this little shell would have had to crawl up the wood support post then along the cross beam to get to were it was. There were a few more shells around it but I wanted to focus in on just this one. Usually these shells gather together to preserve moisture and perhaps that was still going to happen as the sun rose and the shells realised it was day again. I just liked the opportunity to capture the simple blue hues of this tiny shell against the scorched black charcoal of the wood.
Single Little Blue Periwinkle on the burnt end of wooden support beam on a wharf
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
One of the more unusual creatures that I saw, although it is very common, was the Marine Slater (Ligia australiensis). This is a terrestrial animal, closely related to the slaters found in gardens, but has evolved to live on the rocks by the shore. It is not really a creature of ocean beaches but is very common in estuaries or harbours. Normally these arthropods scurry away but this one was a bit calmer so I was able to get closer to it to use the macro lens.
Marine Slater crawling over concrete path edge
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 160, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC] with Canon 430EX III-RT flash)
A fun way to experience the harbour is by kayak. There are a number of hire shops around the harbour but I chose to bring my kayak from Canberra, which meant that I was free to go for a paddle whenever I wanted. We won’t in Sydney long but I was able to go for a paddle twice, enjoying both times and not wanting them to end.
My sea kayak after one of my paddles
(Apple iPhone 8 [ISO 20, 3.99mm, f/1.8 and 1/710 SEC])
Exiting Vaucluse Bay on my second paddle, there was a group of about six Sooty Oystercatchers (Haematopus fuliginosus) on the tip of Bottle and Glass Point. Initially only two of these black birds with their long, bright, solid beaks were present but my approach mush have caused some commotion because the additional birds started appearing as if out of nowhere among the rocks. They walked along the rocks away from me but then flew off, however, later in that paddle I saw another one very nearby this original location. That solid looking beak is used to pry shells off rocks or to smash them open. It can also be used for grabbing crabs, starfish and other small creature out of hiding spots. These birds stay very near the water, which makes sense because of the rich pickings to be had in the intertidal zone.
Sooty Oystercatcher on rocks overlooking the water
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 500, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
I was very excited to see this male Australasian Darter (Anhinga novaehollandiae) on the rocks at Shark Island, and I will clarify that the island gets its name because it supposedly resembles a shark not because of a lurking population of the feared, large fish. He was angled towards the sun, with a light breeze blowing from that direction pushing my kayak towards him. Compared to the same species in Canberra he was not worried at all. My kayak was getting closer yet he kept his wings spread out and even continued grooming his feathers. I did not want to push my luck with this magnificient bird that posed so well for me so I kept my distance and eventually reversed from him, while he stayed on the rock with his wings spread outwards. He was a really beautiful bird that seemed so unconcerned with my presence.
Australasian Darter male drying its wings on Shark Island
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 500, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
I also can’t forget the Chestnut Teals (Anas castanea) that shocked me into thinking that a shark was in the water behind me. As I related in the introduction, I was so captivated photographing the darter that I did not see the two teals approach, only hearing a loud, long splash behind me. I quickly looked over my shoulder to the back of the kayak and saw these two birds swimming unconcernedly at the end of a line of wash, where they had just landed. I was relieved that it was these two gorgeous birds rather than a shark but I was in a quandary as to which bird to photograph now, the darter or the teal. I photographed the male teal for a few shots while he swam around the front of my kayak. Once he was past my bow I returned to photographing the darter. I felt bad that I ignored the sensibly coloured, brown feathered female but the flamboyance of the male’s shimmering green head grabbed my attention, and the morning light was just right for him. The female was less obvious because she will sit on the eggs although the male will be close by defending her and the nest. The mating pair stays together outside of the breeding season so these two may have been a pair. While this duck can tolerate living in saltwater it still needs to drink freshwater.
Chestnut Teal swimming in the waters beside Shark Island
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 500, 286mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
While seeing the harbour’s wildlife from above the water’s surface is rewarding, undoubtedly, the majority of Sydney Harbour’s biomass is beneath the waves. Fortunately, due to a number of wonderful harbour beaches it is not an expensive undertaking to head below the water, you just need a mask and a snorkel. One of the small beaches that I always enjoy going to is Parsley Bay, a quiet, netted beach that is not deep but well sheltered.
Parsley Bay, one of my favourite harbour beaches, with a mystical feel thanks to a fogged up iPhone
(Apple iPhone 8 [ISO 25, 3.99mm, f/1.8 and 1/3000 SEC])
Parsley Bay’s wharf, outside the swimming nets, is a popular recreational fishing location
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/10 and 1/160 SEC])
I was able to go on Christmas morning for a snorkel in the quiet waters of Parsley Bay. I am still learning underwater photography so this was another opportunity to get out to practice this new skill. One difference this time was that I was trying my Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM underwater. This is a superb macro lens and while I knew that underwater macro shots were beyond my snorkelling and shooting abilities at this stage, I thought it would be interesting to see what results I could get. Even though these shots are still not great I was not unpleased with them and I really just enjoyed snorkelling in this beautiful little bay as the sun rose on Christmas morning.
Not surprisingly the first fish that I was able to photograph was the very well-named Common Toadfish (Tetractenos hamiltoni), which is one of the most common fish in the shallow areas of the harbour. This fish allowed me to get reasonably close to it, although it kept swimming, but not in a worried way. It swam into a very shallow area where the natural light was strong allowing me to take advantage of the ambient illumination. These fish have poisonous flesh but unlike a lot of terrestrial animals they don’t have bright colours warning off predators. They are in fact camouflaged, with light skin on the underneath for predators looking up and a spotted pattern on the top for predators above them. Form my childhood I remember that the common wisdom was that they have a sucking motion when they eat because we would often catch them, unintentionally, and the hook had normally lodged in the throat or further back. Removing the hook was not pleasant for either the person or the fish, but I suspect that the fish suffered more.
Common Toadfish swimming over oysters on a rock
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
There were number of Bluespotted Goatfish (Upeneichthys vlamingii) with their yellow whiskers searching for food in the sand. These fish exhibit a variety of colours and are very common in Sydney, often moving in small schools or groups. There were a number of these beautifully coloured fish along the far-side of Parsley bay from the entry stairs.
Bluespotted Goatfish with its yellow whiskers poised to search in the sand for food
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
There were also many Eastern Stripey (Microcanthus strigatus) fish, especially under or near the rock ledge that runs along most of the western side of the bay from the net to the beach. The fish would often swim as a group in a confused circular way, sometimes flipping on to their sides. These black and yellow fish that grow to about 18cm are omnivores, which probably helps them in finding food no matter what the situation.
Eastern Stripey
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
There were a number of Sea Bream (Acanthopagrus australis) swimming on the sandier areas. They were a decent size but not yet fully grown so there was still sufficient food for them in this little bay. These fish go under a number of common names including Yellowfin Bream, Surf Bream, Black Bream, etc. Although I suspect that most people would just call them bream if they caught them. These fish are carnivores, preying on small fish and small invertebrates. They can also tolerate brackish and some freshwater, and will spawn in the mouth of rivers.
Sea Bream
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
A group of Sydney Cardinalfish (Ostorhinchus limenus) were under the rock ledge in the bay. They did not swim far from the protection of the rock ledge, peering out from the shadows at me. They are very common in Sydney and the species were described originally from specimens gathered in Sydney Harbour, hence their common name. The word limenus is Greek for harbour or refuge, so aptly describes their habitat. These fish are more active at night, preferring to hide in caves and under ledges, as this group was, during the day. The males of the species carrying the young in their mouth.
Sydney Cardinalfish under a rock ledge
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
Periodically, while peering under the rock ledge I would see a ball of swirling colours moving along on the edge of the shadow, like a constantly bending glow sticks. This confusing mass were the smallish Eastern Hulafish that grow to 10cm. They feed on zooplankton along the rock reef. I was often mesmerised by the flashing colour before my eyes. This fish’s common name, hulafish, comes from the constant twisting they do and while small, the show of colour is beautiful to watch.
Confusing mass of Eastern Hulafish
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
There were also a number of Jellyfish, small ones, in the netted swimming area, and I spent some time trying to shoot a good picture of them. I was having trouble with the camera’s auto focus picking up the jellyfish and ended up settling on this shot where I tried to capture the reflection of the jellyfish in the surface just above it. I also noticed where an oyster had been open on a rock wall so that the white inside of its exposed lower shell was strongly reflecting the rising sun. I was hoping to combine all those elements into a single composition. I don’t think that I nailed the idea but I am happy that at least I was thinking about the elements in the composition.
Jellyfish reflecting off the surface and the sun reflecting off an open oyster shell
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 4000, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
Sydney Harbour is a busy, growing harbour where commercial and social enterprises continue to expand. Despite the human driven growth the natural world has been able to exist alongside it, although coexistence has not always been easy. I would not downplay the environmental problems in Sydney Harbour but I think it is marvellous that people can still see wildlife beside, on and under the harbour; animals that help us maintain contact with the natural world. Hopefully, we will continue to cherish these creatures as much as we do the cultural icons of Sydney so that the ecosystem as a whole can also be preserved into the future. The ongoing existence of the wildlife doesn’t just maintain the health of the harbour but makes us better humans because it shows that we value other creatures as much as ourselves.
Thanks for reading this post and thanks also for looking at my photos. I hope you come back again to read more about some of the wonderful natural things that are around. All the best until the next post.