Better In Belair

Today's effort is all about the pictures. 

Sister and I mended rapidly from Covid: Roger not so much.  We filled him with pills, plied him with inhalations, and packed him off to bed with the cat while we went walking to test the extent of our recovery. We cheated a little bit though, driving down to Belair National Park so that we wouldn't have to walk up any hills to get home.

Belair NP was quiet on a Friday morning, just the odd jogger or dog walker out and about. We wandered along the Valley Loop, beside the empty creek. All the wildflowers were dying off, the gum tree blossoms were tatty and worn, and the creeks were dry.

A kangaroo and joey eyed us warily before taking themselves off to less populated pastures.

Black cockatoos posed in the trees overhead,

and people with far more energy than us jogged up hill and down dale through tunnels of leafy green.

We saw new leaves,

and old blossoms.

Rainbow lorikeets clustered at the base of one particular tree, fighting and squabbling over blossoms.

Obviously a tasty treat if you're a Rainbow lorikeet.

 Having exhausted the possibilities of Belair for post-Covid walking, we went home for a short rest and then ventured out again to the Wittunga Botanical Gardens where the walking was less onerous and the vegetation tended heavily toward introduced rather than native species.

Black and red foliage.  If it's not called a Bushfire plant, it ought to be.

Bottlebrush.

By the time we finished at Wittunga the day was drawing to an end and we were very proud of our covid recovery efforts. 

 

Let's go home.

 

We gave Roger more medicine and paid our dues to the cat, who was complaining that no-one was sitting still long enough for any decent lap time.  Apart from Roger, but she (the cat) took exception to the coughing and spluttering that came with his lap.

We played Quiddler.

She beat me.

This is getting serious.