tiger, tiger

I was out walking, enjoying the early warmth of a spring morning, with Miske on a zig zag trail of overnight scents.   Roos and ducks and that secret world that only dogs know. A wattle bird suddenly dived in front of me. With a whoosh and a sharp clack of it's beak. A little closer. Whoosh and clack!

I pulled up and looked closely in the grass. Called Miske to my side. Yep. A lovely big tiger, shining black with golden scales gleaming from underneath and emerging in faint stripes up its side. Whoosh and clack!

With the sun so warm, and the snake so big, and the wattle bird so small, he wasn't going anywhere. I went back for my camera, stepped a little closer for a photo, he still stayed put. Whoosh and clack! I jumped, totally forgetting about the bird in my concentration. The bird flew away, no doubt it has a nest in the nearby trees.

It reminded me that last year I had come across a couple of magpies on the ground, within fifty metres of the same spot, harassing a tiger snake. They were calling angrily and hopping in and away, and snapping their beaks. The snake was as immovable as a rock, determined to catch the warmth of the sun while it could. I wouldn't mind betting it was the same tiger.