Misty

HH woke very early, meaning that I did too (bad words may have passed my lips). And whereas he then snuggled down for another 2 ½ hours, bird song dragged me out into the garden. The trees have grown up so much that the view from the sitting room is now limited, so I climbed the bank to seek a better vantage point. Kayla came too and did her best, in her excitement, to send me bowling down again (it’s very step and footing is precarious). The jungle is so thick up there that the options were still limited, but I chose this one, showing the quaresmeira and acacia (?) trees in flower.

It then seemed appropriate to tackle the flower beds while the soil was still moist and the sun wasn't too high. When I failed to stop, except for breakfast, as it dried out and the heat increased, I arrived at a definition for semi-retirement – in my case it seems to involve alternating back-breaking work with the brain-busting variety.

Anyway, in four ór five hours of hard labour, I managed to clear and partially replant the biggest flowerbed (it’s quite small), with the side effect that our caretaker/gardener was prompted to put in an unprecedented number of hours in another part of the garden. My reward was two visits from what may be one of Brazil’s rarest butterflies, the Parides burchellanus, but I have to confirm that identification. Its first visit was brief and although I took off round the garden in hot pursuit, I was unable to get a shot. The second time, it was more generous and I got a few shots, but although they are good enough for identification purposes, I felt they weren’t up to scratch for blip.
 
Back down to Rio, visiting our convalescent friend on the way, and thendown the road to share a steak at our home-from-home on the beach.