Dick and Jane...

Do you mind if I get some photographs of your outfit?

The Morris bicycle and cart with accessories

No, go on, go ahead.

I was hunkered down in the gravel of the car park at the lagoon shooting the bottle-o's bicycle and cart suddenly aware of a sense someone was close by, maybe a child although I barely heard any sound. I looked to my left without otherwise stirring. Here, gazing straight at me side-by-side as if bent on First-Aid, if needs be CPR, were two adult ducks, a pair. Hahaha. They must have climbed out of the water a little distance away and silently waddled over while I was intent, not anywhere there before I turned my attention to the bicycle and cart.

Funny that on my head I had on a green beanie not unlike the green on the head of one and the head of the other was a beautiful chenille brown. My hair retains some brown and gold sheen of my natural colour ...and sticking out from underneath my beanie I imagined myself eccentric looking enough to be worth checking out.

Not wanting to move I shot them blind by turning the camera and trying to change settings without being alarming. Bottle-o Morris left his work he had gone a distance away to accomplish. I heard his voice.

Have you got them? Friendly ducks. Friendly ducks. Very friendly ducks.

They turned and faced each other head on as if silently conferring. No need for CPR at all. Strange sort of a duck.

They did a little grooming and nodding then, taking turns

Morris went back to work after a bit. The ducks and I hung out together by the lagoon for a while as you do. Hahaha.

When they left it was response to the goods train that comes through no more than a hundred yards away. I supposed it would drive them off, but no, it seemed a trigger that time had come to get on with stuff and run...

veering in the direction of the train...

until they launched themselves into the lagoon and glided off towards the rail bridge.

I caught up with Morris at a bin on the other side of the lagoon to thank him and say cheerio before I continued on my way to take a cardboard box of empty egg cartons to the co-op. Morris was exclaiming that's cruel. Oh, how did it get in there and tutting and o dear, wedged in the bottom of the bin on its back and hissing at Morris trying to dislodge it with a long stick was a possum.

Only separate from its mother's pouch at a guess. It would have spent 5 months and winter in mother's pouch feeding on a teat and would be dependent on her, riding around on her back for up to 2 months.

We both freaked out. No, Morris had already assessed it was not damaged and that with no lid on the bin, it was trapped when it had fallen off a branch of the overhanging gum tree. We had to get it out.

With all the stinking rubbish on the ground and people trekking past us we compulsively told we were getting a baby possum out of the bin, it clung upside down to the bottom of the bin. When it emerged by my slowly rolling the bin in an elevated position, Morris finally scooted it out when it emerged although momentarily appeared to think inside the bin was safer. It took one terrified look over its shoulder backwards to find out what manner of monster was behind the bin and scampered as right as rain straight to the base of the gum tree and up its trunk.

Deviation onto a lower branch seemed an attractive proposition but almost falling off it frightened the poor creature further to climb the height of the massive tree.

Seeing how vitally muscular and shiny the fur of the little possum was gave me hope to believe it would find its mum if mum is needed or she would find her baby. Possums are territorial. Mum will not be far away.

A few of the empty egg cartons came in handy as scoops to pick up the rubbish to put it back in the bin and I contracted with Morris I would call in to the Council offices and report to them we had saved the possum, describe the problem.

We are really mates, Morris, I commented as we scooped up rubbish, and Morris agreed. We saved the possum ... :)

Thanks to Ambling Camera here who is hosting Square September