The Rainforest Journal: Outing #15 – Day 1

(Sunday 30-November-2014)

Clouds don't just rain on you from above in the mountains, they swallow the mountains up.

Clouds don’t just rain on you from above in the mountains, they swallow the mountains up.

@4:45pm

Alright I’m here, and although I won’t be writing a full monolog every day I have to mention that there are no rat-chewed holes in the tent at all this time. It’s also started raining so that’s nice; nothing like the surround-sound patter of rain-drops tapping at the tent fly, and I’ve already got a mosquito coil burning so I can have the flaps open.

Last night I took two German girls outside to feed a Possum who’s been stopping by the past few nights for bread. With stale bread in abundant supply in town I’ve gone out each night and feed him, and being a mammalian creature of habit the animal has continued to visit at about the same time, and both the tourists chicks were delighted to not only see one so close but hand-feed him.. Or her.

The town possum. Turns out there are two in the same area; I saw this one get chased away by a larger specimen who's ear was torn.

The town possum. Turns out there are two in the same area; I saw this one get chased away by a larger specimen who’s ear was torn.

This morning of course – I’m in the kitchen chugging-down however many coffees it takes me to start feeling like a half-way functional human-being, the German chicks checked-out today also so they were in the dining room eating breakfast when this silly old fart – the Finnish guy that used to have dinner with the fat Indonesian girl and myself – he just starts yelling out from the next room for them to come clean their food away.

The more I see this old fucker getting cranky at various woman as soon as they enter the conversation, the more I think he must be a dirty old homo because everytime any woman steals the chatter with any male he’s talking to he’ll do what he can to repel the woman: shut the door on her, get old-man-sorta cranky or generally be rude. Stupid old fag.

Walking down here, I didn’t bother to take my camera out – even though it was in my pocket – until I almost stepped on this..

Chunk'o Wallaby, skin and all.

Chunk’o Wallaby, skin and all.

No way to not notice it, since a splotch of fur stands out on a light coloured dirt road. At first I thought it might be the worlds hairiest caterpillar until I picked it up and felt the hard strip of dried flesh at the base, and I would have to think it’s a chunk of Wallaby, since all the other furred animals I’ve seen or even read about out here have generally light brownish-grey fur, and I say a chunk because it still has a piece of skin attached at the base – albeit hard and dried-up, so I’d assume it was bitten off; even if the Wallaby got itself stuck on a tree branch or something it wouldn’t rip a square inch of skin clean off. Whatever though; at least the animal(s) that ate the Wallaby have eaten recently enough to not come munching on me. I’ll keep it, maybe add it to my dog-bone bracelet.

Anyhoo, it’s just the nocturnal mammals, birds and me for the next week so I don’t have to put-up with fucken weirdos at all again for a while. I’m gonna stop writing and post this so I can relax and listen to the rain.

Edit @9:00pm

So I’d just made coffee and settled-down to read for the night when I notice a flashing light moving around the tent fly outside. I opened picked the tiny bug up and brought him inside for a photo, which I got several of – though all are fuzzy. Evidently it’s hard to get a clear photo of a bug smaller than an Ant, in zero light while trying to time the shutter to coincide with the tiny creatures flashing, but it shows the color of the light at least.

A tiny Blue Mountains Firefly on my hand, snapped mid-flash, but fuzzy.

A tiny Blue Mountains Firefly on my hand, snapped mid-flash, but fuzzy.

The Rainforest Journal: Outing #15 – Day 1
Rate in Guidos

Jason
Animal-loving cleaner with a parrot.

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