Some photos from the weekend...
Three little calves planted by their mothers, who were nowhere to be found...
An older cow enjoying the cool morning...
We had a couple of dramas. I was relaxed and strolling along a sandy, shady creek bank, with only a little leaf litter. In an instant, without any thought or warning, I suddenly found myself in mid-air a couple of feet off the ground with my legs frantically flailing to avoid a good-size brown snake that had exploded at my feet from a pile of leaves, and was likewise in the air, roping and looping to fend me off. It was quite surreal, that moment. What goes up must come down, and we landed together, him (well, I don't exactly know the gender) landing upside-down before galloping up the boot and halfway up the gaiter of my wife who was stifling a scream behind me. Then he departed, and we were shaken. It was meant to be a relaxed and romantic walk to a spectacular gorge, but that encounter put us on edge. This year is strangely full of snake encounters. for the previous five years I have been extremely casual, and cannot think of a time I saw a poisonous snake while hunting. This year they've contacted my shoes three times, and my wife has also had two close encounters. If you're coming this way for a stroll in buffalo country this year, just keep an eye out. I used to hunt in sandals or thongs, but am reluctant to do so now, preferring to suit-up like a knight with gaiters and boots - and maybe trousers instead of shorts, now.
This isn't the snake that gave me a fright, it's a black whip snake that I saw from a safe distance and tried to photograph...
The next little drama wasn't so bad, just an older cow with a young bull and a couple of yearlings that got assertive when we tried to edge safely around a new-born calf. The cow rounded the calf up and moved away, but the bull kept coming and had us against a cliff drop to the creek below. I wasn't too worried, and "Shoo!"-ed him away easily enough. He had approached to about thirty metres. My wife felt uncomfortable about it.
Then we encountered an older bull in some thicker cover with horns that began nicely enough by were kind-of stunted partway along - as was his body, we feel. I mean, he was big enough to smash us, but just lacked a couple of hundred kilograms, we felt. I'm not sure if he'd had a hard life, was genetically smaller, or was just aging. Anyway, at thirty-five metres he was unaware and I popped a 600 grain Woodleigh PPSN into his chest, quartering-on, whereupon he staggered a few yards and toppled, bobala.
Seeing this butterfly was a really special part of the outing...
I never have learned what these little creatures are, but there are always lots of them, they're harmless, and on this occasion they were busily engaged in some kind of orgy - I only photographed two couples out of many. Or maybe I'm wrong and they were just piggy-backing the smaller ones around...
