The Rainforest Journal: Outing #12 – Day 7

(Thursday 23-October-2014)


Today – since it’s a sunny once again – the plan is to tip the pasta on the ground, then wait for him to visit. That’s it. That’s all the plans for the day. Since I saw him yesterday I expect he’ll be dropping-in today at some point.




So I’ve just had a visit from the main event; the star of the show: The Komodo Dragons closest relative and unlike yesterday – there was no snobbery this morning. I didn’t even hear him approach today, which is odd since I usually hear the crunching and rustling leaves caused by his footsteps and tail, but for whatever reason I looked out my tent and there he was: basking a few meters away.

“BRO! YOU’RE BACK!”, I say to him rather enthusiastically…

*flicky-flick, flicky-flick* goes the tongue.

“Come round and have some pasta Bruh, I saved some for ya.”

*flicky-flick, flicky-flick*

He gets to his feet and begins stomping, and for a moment it looked as though he was headed home to his burrow. But as it turned-out he was just working his way around in an arc: to approach the tent from this side: where he knows the food is served. Taking the scenic way around, I guess.

I got out the bag of pasta I’d put aside for him last night and emptied the contents on the ground outside the tent, making a point of returning the plastic bag to the tent once it was emptied.

Just moments later he’d locked-on the smell with that flicky snake tongue of his, turned and headed straight for the food whereupon he began picking pasta peices up and downing them. You’d think he’d just fill his mouth and gulp it, but he’s really quite a slow eater. Most of the time he’ll pick individual pasta pieces and swallow one at a time, pausing with his head up and throat puffed between shells before lowering his head again to grab the next bit. Takes him a good half hour to eat a cupful of food this way, but things are pretty laid back out here so we don’t mind.

Chow-down Broeski!

Chow-down Broeski!

Anyway he ate most of it: leaving only the pasta that was completely caked in dirt. He doesn’t seem to be too interested in chewing things he eats of course, and whether it’s pasta, whole chicken necks or wings, he treats them all the same: grab one bit, tilt his head upwards and swallow. Kinda like one of those flip-top garbage bins. Flip it open, toss shit inside and it’s gone – but only one thing at a time.

Nothing like a good, after-dinner butt lick. Hey, don't judge.

Nothing like a good, after-dinner butt lick. Hey, don’t judge.



He ate his pasta, I drank my coffee. I talked shit about whatever, while he looked at me and flicked his tongue. I made fun of the Possum being so paranoid, he looked at me and flicked his tongue. Not much of a talker, sure, but like most animals his greatest conversational asset is that he doesn’t interrupt and, since I was able to keep the conversation flowing just fine anyway, we had a pretty good time.

A good listener, he's all ears.

A good listener, he’s all ears.

One thing I *know* we both agree on, is that the best place for a bush rat is inside his stomach.

After lunch, he got back to some serious relaxation around the tent, while I took way too many photos that I then had to spend an hour deleting because the light was shitty. Even in the pics I’ve set aside for this post, most are flooded with the glare of the sun shining off nearby leaves and branches.

Serious relaxing about the place, here...

Serious relaxing about the place, here…

...and here...

…and here…

...and a bit over here.

…and a bit over here.


Well the party’s just about come to an end for today, as a storm has started rolling in. Lizard looks strangely unperturbed by the rapidly approaching thunder, lightning and wind, but I expect he’ll start heading home pretty soon anyhoo ’cause it’s about that time of day when he always stomps-off home.

Before the storm hits, a little more serious relaxation ...over here.

Before the storm hits, a little more serious relaxation …over here.

Almost as soon as I finished typing-out that last block of text, he started heading in the direction of his den/burrow/rock/log/whatever, and now he’s halfway to being too far away to see. He’s stopped, like he does every twenty meters, and he’s looking back at me but he’s on his way home. Just as well too with this storm almost on top of us.



Craaaazy thunderstorm going on. I’ve already cooked though, and having eaten some pasta myself, put some outside for the Possum and Rats as well as in a container for tomorrows reptilian lunch. Not a very eventful day, but important to know that the Monitor is at least for now, alright.

The Rainforest Journal: Outing #12 – Day 7
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Animal-loving cleaner with a parrot.

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