Nature's precious jewel.

Can't really get much more versatile than water, really. You can drink it, cook with it, wash with it, play in it, generate electricity with it, put out fires with it, make plants grow with it, dance in it (insert raindrops keep falling on my head soundtrack here), use it to get from A to B, either by boat, or hovercraft, or walnut shell, if you are Thumbelina. 

You can probably do many more things with water that my brain hasn't connected the dots with yet. But it is both friend and foe. A giver of life, and a taker. You can drown in it. Even if you are on land. Hurricanes. Tsunamis. Floods. Swimming pools. Bathtubs. Puddles.

And you can also die because of what is lurking in it. Whenever I watch those wildlife documentaries, the ones about the lions and zebras and giraffes, I feel an overwhelming urge to go to Africa and build bridges for the wildebeest. So the crocodiles lurking in the rivers can't get them.

But yeah, I know what would happen then...the crocodiles would starve...and the wildebeest population would explode...and then the lion population would blossom too, but then the wildebeest would run out of food, and then the lions would as well, so they'd start eyeing up the elephants instead and...and...and so my meddling would upset the delicate balance of the whole ecosystem...

So I will just have to extend my deepest sympathies to the wildebeesties, and to all of the animals who experience chronic anxiety issues triggered by the very basic need to put their heads down to drink at the local watering hole. Yikes. Imagine that. Having your jugular coveted by creatures in, and out of the water. The perils of being thirsty.

No element of choice involved though. We all need water. Many animals, including humans, die without it. Many die from drinking it as well, because it's contaminated. It might kill you quickly, or slowly, delivering a lethal dose of bacteria, or other scourges like heavy metals, or parasites.

But there's something else important we can do with water--admire it, which is the purpose of this blog post, of course. Oceans are a visual feast, as are many rivers and lakes, the unpolluted ones, at least. And let's not forget waterfalls, rock pools, and rainstorms. Hell, I'm often mesmerised by the ensemble of swirls that congregate in my morning coffee. Bewitching.

But the individual drop is also noteworthy, imo. A delicate jewel. An often mobile one thats whimsical journey has to be captured before it morphs into a different kind of sustenance, like plant food.

Water is, in essence, a magician. It can be a solid, or a liquid, and can make the transition between the two in an instant, like a chameleon. Fluid with fluidity.

It can make a dramatic statement of its power in the form of a mighty glacier, yet still woo us with both the simplicity and complexity of a single snowflake. It can find a path around many obstacles in its way. It can take on any shape, and also shape its surroundings. In seconds, and over centuries. Not only can it descend from the sky above, but it can bubble forth from below the ground too.

It can do other fancy stuff as well, like dissolve solids. Salt. Sugar. Itself in a different form. And it can dissolve and dilute at the same time. It really knows how to multi-task, doesn't it.

Magician, and musician. It can lap playfully, gently, against a rock, or murmur softly as a warm rain. It can  drum roll as a torrential downpour, or thunder over a waterfall.

Water is the quintessential nomad. A traveller that wanders through life weaving in and out of the lives of others. Sheesh. Talk about a mindboggler. Sure makes my water based brain pulse with intrigue. What can't water do? Walk on itself...? Maybe...? Actually, yes, I guess it can, if a snowflake can float before it dissolves... that's water walking on water, isn't it? It is in my book, anyhoo... Holy water, if you ask me...

A Christmas buzz.

I was thinking about Santa the other day. Guess a lot of people do, at this time of year. My thoughts weren't full of anticipation of the gift wrapped delights he might bestow upon me this festive season, however. Santa and I are no longer on speaking terms. Irreconcilable differences. Tis safe to say he won't be making his way down my chimney, or back onto my Christmas card list, anytime soon.

Anyhoo, I was thinking about him cos I was wondering if the jolly old chap ever tires of his attire. If he ever craves a makeover. I know his devotees expects him to wear a red and white ensemble, but sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit. To challenge those stereotypes. Besides, not everyone can wear red.

NB, I'm not saying Santa doesn't suit his suit...I would never be so audacious, I'm merely suggesting a change might do him good. It's nice to have options. And I have the perfect alternative outfit for his wardrobe in mind--a bumble bee costume! Imagine that! A stripey Santa! How cute would that bee...

And of course, Donna and Blitzen, and Rudolph and all the other reindeer whose names I can't quite recall at this point in time...how adorable would they look with matching outfits... Their horns could easily be transformed to look like antennae.

The symbolism would be spot on, cos we all know how hardworking bumblebees are, and the reindeer can fly too, in defiance of the laws of physics...and they give children everywhere a Christmas morning buzz...and they probably deliver a fair few teddy bears...

Can you picture it too? Thought so. That's settled then. I shall write Santa another letter, not requesting presents, or complaining about the duds he has dished out in Christmases past, but one with my well thought out makeover plans.

Best if I send it a.s.a.p., as it will probably take a while to stitch those new costumes. Especially the antennae for the reindeers' horns...I'm guessing they will have to be custom made. Of course, the elves will need matching bumble suits too...since they're a hive of activity and all that...

Curiously enough, the politicians in my country reside in a building called The Beehive, but that's where the resemblance to flying balls of cuteness ends...

On the subject of bumbles, I've had to implement rescue plans for quite a lot of them lately. The most dramatic--a bumble was lying on his back waving his little legs about frantically, in the middle of a driveway...the entrance to the supermarket, would you believe. Yikes. There was no time to dither with that intervention. I'm relieved to say that when my finger appeared in his visual field, bumble features latched on without hesitation and was airlifted to the safety of a nearby garden.

Bugs in love.

Romance is in the air again, in Stick Insect Metropolis. Don't these two just look like they were made for each other...

Yoga for bugs.

My verandah seems to be very popular with the stick insect community. Couldn't help but notice this lass doing a headstand;

When I checked on her the next day she was practicing more advanced poses in her yoga routine. This position doesn't look very comfortable to me; 

Not from this angle either;

Or this one;

Rest assured I kept a close eye on her to make sure she didn't venture into the foot traffic area. Luckily the birds didn't notice her yogic stretches. On the third day I was relieved to see she had moved into a more spine friendly position;

And on the fourth day she did the upside down sticky thing that they do so well;

Climbing the walls.

I'm used to seeing bugs in strange places. All the same, I would've liked to have perused a copy of this sticky's itinerary. Where was he heading? Other than up the wall... Was he planning to go around the bend too? He's right beside my front door, so maybe he just stopped by to say hello...

His side profile is also quite fetching;

That little dark spot on the wall to his right is a moth. Maybe they made the trip together, an insect bonding thing. Or a competition...

Just to give you an idea of how far up the wall Mr Sticky and his winged companion were;

The light is just above my head, so it's quite an epic journey for a bug.

Later on that day, the sun offered another photo opportunity--a bug and his shadow! Yay! 

Btw, that's a bit of garden debris attached to his bottom, just in case you were wondering. It could, of course, also be the insect equivalent of a fashion accessory;

Once again, my subject showed how versatile a bug can be when a photo opportunity presents itself;

Work that camera, sticky;

I was faced with the familiar dilemma I experience whenever I see a bug far from their natural habitat...do I intervene? Provide some assistance? 

I've seen praying mantises climb the walls, presumably to lay eggs, but I do believe this sticky is a boy...and I was concerned about where he might end up, like underfoot. (Don't worry, I wrote myself a note--on a sticky of the other kind, actually--to remind myself to check for wayward stickys before setting foot outside...)

He stayed in this spot for two days, and then, sure enough, my safety concerns were realised when I opened the door the next morning and found him sitting on the actual doorstep. As much as I like to be greeted first thing by an adorable bug, nevertheless, intervention was most definitely required.

I hope sticky approved of the flax bush I put him on...

Raspberry maiden.

Dishes are not my idea of fun...unless while doing them I glance out my window and spy an exquisite creature like this lass. Perfect excuse to swap the dishcloth for an image capturing device instead, of course. How could I resist.

She--assuming I have made an accurate gender diagnosis--is dangling from a raspberry cane, seemingly effortlessly. I don't think I could dangle like that for very long, if at all. 

In fact, I'm going to rebel against the positive thinking brigade and propose that we should focus more on the things we can't do. And celebrate these things, and the creatures who can do them. In the interests of keeping our egos in check. 

Your challenge, should you accept it, is to spend the following week completing this sentence;

I can't ______ like a _______.

But back to more important things, like clever bugs...

This lass did have an admirer--other than me--a much smaller sticky lurking on an adjacent stem who I assume was of the male persuasion. Talk about a cute couple. Just watch out for those prickles, boy sticky. Not only the ones on the raspberry cane.

 Let's admire her spiny bits close up;

And here's another shot of her doing something that I can't, something remarkable;

Oh Sticky, you're-so-fine, you're-so-fine-you-blow-my-mind, Stick-y! Stick-y!

Laughing out loud.

A good night's sleep is not a concept I am familiar with. I struggle to get to sleep, and it's a mission to stay in The Land of Nod too. There's always something that wakes me up.

It might be the wind, or the rain, or their combined effort. Sometimes it's the sounds of suburbia. Other times it's the electricity meter ticking over. That really gets on my wick.

Then there's the overly dramatic double clunk my fridge makes to alert anyone within earshot that it has cooled itself down sufficiently for the time being. What a clever fridge you are.

Last but not least--as if I really need to say this out loud--there are the convoluted inner workings of my own muddled mind. I'm always finding more rabbit holes to fall into in the wee small hours. My Grandad's nickname for me was Alice, would you believe.

I'm pleased to announce that a new sleep deprivation technique has emerged. My subconscious--bless it--finds something in my inner realm so amusing, that laughter ensues. Not just a minor giggle, but a full on laughing fit.

But it's not just a hysterical session in my dreams, it bleeds into the real(ish) world. I laugh myself awake. Intriguing. It appears to be quite hard, or possibly impossible, to laugh and stay asleep at the same time. Kinda like sneezing and keeping your eyes open, I guess.

It's not just annoying because I really need to maximise my sleep molecules, but also because my subconscious has more than once refused to share the joke. Pretty damn rude of it, if you ask me. While onlookers often have no idea why I'm laughing, I usually do. I think it's important to keep oneself in the loop about these things.

I do remember one mischievous morsel from my smorgasbord of dreams though. I thought I'd share it with you today, in case it makes you laugh too.

I was trying to find somewhere else to live during my waking moments, so my subconscious put its own spin on this storyline.

In my dream I went to check out a place by the ocean. Things were looking promising. The flat was nice. The waves were mesmerising. The landlord seemed like a decent chap. Not shifty. Not sleazy. I saw no hint of disapproval in his face. I got my hopes up. I thought I had found my new abode. 

I was following the guy down the hallway. Polite conversation was present. A couple of steps, mid hallway, were present as well. When I reached them, I took the opportunity to bend down and tie my shoelace. At that precise moment the landlord turned around to say something, stepping back towards me as he did so.

I head-butted him in the crotch.

Mortified, I fell down in a disheveled heap on the steps, laughing uncontrollably. He lurched off into an adjacent room, shutting the door behind him. I could hear him sniggering away in the background, which made me laugh even more. So much in fact, that I laughed myself awake.

It's difficult not to choke while laughing when you're lying down, so I had to put myself into the recovery position until the gigglefest was over.

I'm happy to acknowledge that waking up laughing isn't so bad. It's a jovial way to start the day. Unless the day hasn't actually begun because it's still only 5am... I didn't manage to get back to sleep. Action replay issues.

It's by far the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me--in a dream. At least, I think it is. My subconscious might know more about that than I do. Insider information, so to speak.

I didn't get that flat, obviously. I'm house hunting again though, so will keep a look out for any nice rentals by the ocean. And a look out for steps too, of course. Might wear shoes without laces, just to be on the safe side...