Never smile at a crocodile?

I did and I survived

Day three of “chicks on holiday adventure in Darwin”

Wow what a day.

Adelaide river here we come. I loved the drive inland. Only a couple of hours. Great roads, easy driving. Peaceful! It was wakeful meditation.

Mum and I head out with to meet Captain Harry, a fervent conservationist on the Adelaide River to watch him feed the crocodiles, learn and just be in the croc moment.

I pre-warn them about my mums mobility problems. She was met and escorted onto a boat by Captain Harrys son Sean. I look at her with much love thinking jeez you’re a quick worker mum. “Look at you” I say to her, “you’ve got a man on your arm within five minutes of getting here.”

I’m about to meet mine, “the dominator”a 5 1/2 metre long 80 year old, more mums vintage but I was intrigued.

Harry told us “ we have to watch this one” he is an aggressive bugger, cranky, and will eat anyone or anything who comes into his patch.

Now Brutus, while still the old man at 100 years young, larger than the dominator, was reported to be gentle and beautiful, for a crocodile that was, he would reportedly pop his head up and look into the boat to see what was going on and if there was any food for him. Gentle and beautiful is more up my alley, At 100 he has barely any teeth left but could still crush you between his jaws mind you. I chose not to test out this theory! Who knows that song, “never smile at a crocodile? “

Well I did. I smiled at Brutus, I talked to Brutus. As I do, crazy animal lady, I talk to animals. I spoke to Brutus, I smiled at Brutus, I was enamoured by Brutus. I do believe Big old Brutus smiled back at me.

Or was that him sizing up his next meal?

Captain Harry did remind me, not to hang over the side of the boat as they may confuse me with food. Do I resemble a buffalo?

I was amazed by these creatures, there very size and magnificence. The dominator and Brutus were the stars of the day for me, We did meet a few others along our path, females only 2.5 metres, young males a mere 3.5 metres, tiny! A mother protecting her babies. She did at that. As we drifted into wards the bank, she flew through the water, up onto the bank and protected. A mother is a mother human or animal. The river calm, still and peaceful even in the moments as the croc approaches, silent, a splash as he erupts from the water and the smack of jaws slamming shut on a poor unsuspecting bird. They are quick!

Captain Harry shared his part of the river and it’s history, now in his 80s, he is still trying to protect crocodiles and their babies from the money makers exploiting these “protected” animals from government which allows egg collection and the use of their skins for the luxury goods industries.

In their efforts, they try to cover the nests of croc eggs so they are not in visible from overhead. The commissioned groups that fly overhead looking for nests. Crocodiles lay round 50 eggs, only once a year, these stealers of life, come in and take every single egg, not even even leaving a few for the poor mother. It’s heartbreaking what we do to animals. But you all know how I feel about that.

The day was fabulous backed up by a beer at the famous Humpty Doo Hotel. Most famous for its hamburgers, which I did not indulge in. Buffalo, Barramundi, and crocodile burgers were not for my palate. I scoured the menu for a vegan burger. Not one insight. But jeez that beer went down well.

Now I’m looking for Duncan, coz I need to have “a beer with Duncan me mate!”

Sue Vincent Thursday Photo Prompt – #writephoto

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Eclipse

Humans have defined wildlife. When did we become our worlds jury?

We declared them wild, a justifiable means to slaughter these gentle beings.

In fairness and compassion our planets wildlife eclipse that of humans.

The human race extinguish beauty.

Animals display beauty, kindness & empathy

They give human second chances. Do we deserve it?

Animals have an insight that surpasses humanities capabilities.

Animals hold an inner compass that shows a tender heart and soul.

We shade in comparison, we grow dim.

We show no remorse.

#fowc

Anzac Day – we will never forget

Every year I attend dawn service for Anzac Day. Every year the crowd grows. Every year I watch younger generations joining in with the older generations connected in spirit to remember those who fought for our country and lost their lives. Every year I cry for those we lost. On this day, every year I could not be more proud to be Australian.

Courage, tenacity, spirit and mateship was the essence of these heroic men. Many of those were the age of my generation sons.

We will never forget ❣️

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I wrote this poem last year ❤️

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25th April 1915

Saw an armada of ships

On the coast line of turkey convene

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Our troops descended upon the shore

Of foreign lands never tread upon before

In the dark of dawn, the wrong destination

Led sadly to the many casualties of war

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Australian and New Zealand Army Corps

Courageous & resilient

Let us not forget those casualties of wars

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Our fathers, our brothers

Sons of proud and sad mothers

Cousins, uncles, our mates

This sad war sealed over 60,000 of our owns fates

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More wars, more departures followed

In solemn silence,

our nation’s grief was swallowed

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25th April 2019

Dawn service

Aussie’s all over the world convene

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We remember there lives 104 years on

Mateship, sacrifice, heroes

The highest honor, the highest award to all of you

Australia bestows

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We will never forget

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Signed A Proud Australian

Teach me about life

Teach me

Did you feel me move

I’m playing in your tummy

I am coming very soon

I can’t wait to meet you mummy

*

Daddy lay your hands on me

Gently touch mummy’s tummy

I will be your most precious human

irreplaceable, no amount of money

*

I’m coming into your world

I’ll be here very soon

I’ll shine brighter than all the stars

More brilliant than the fullest moon

*

Nine months inside your body

I’ve listened to your heartbeat

dear mummy, one day soon

We are really going to meet

*

I picked myself a mummy

I picked myself a daddy

I found two people to comfort me,

Wipe my button nose, when it’s runny

*

I will be your adored little girl

No longer just a dream

You will look at me with love

Gentle words and eyes agleam

*

I cannot wait to see your face

I cannot wait to feel your touch

Swaddle me with your love

There will never be too much

*

What color will my eyes be

Blue, brown, or green

I’m going to have the prettiest eyes

That you both have ever seen

*

Do you promise to kiss me every night

on my perfect lips and nose,

Do you promise to play with me,

count my little fingers and toes

*

This little piggy,

Daddy can we play

Be by my side always

Never go away

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I want to have bubble baths

I want to cuddle a teddy bear

but most of all I just want

my mum and dad to always be there

*

Teach me about this thing called life

I want to do everything

Good,

wondrous

learn from all the strife

*

Teach me how to count

Teach me how to cook

Teach me the alphabet

And how to read a book

*

Lets pick flowers

Cuddle for hours

Teach me kindness

So my morals are the finest

*

Teach me to be like you two

*

We will run in puddles

Play in the rain

Eat ice cream

Again and again

*

I have so much to look forward to

I love you both so much

My best day is yet to come

When I feel your loving touch

💗💗💗💗

The conductor

The alleyway was a totally different view by daylight. The sinister shadows taking their vengeance by dark, intimidating innocent passers by, were gone. Now the shadows loomed larger than life, playfully waiting, to participate in a dance, to a tune that was yet to be played.

Not much action today, the watcher took a well earned coffee & smoko break. He picked up his packet of Marlboro, he knew smoking was not healthy for him, still as that thought passed through his mind, he lit yet another cigarette, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, his mind turned to the sheer pleasure it brought him. Little did he know at this moment that smoking would be his demise one day.

While the watcher continued with his unhealthy habit, there was some potentially dodgy action about to take place in the alley. He says potentially because, it’s a gut feeling, and he knows his instinct is good.

An elderly couple hobbled the uneven lane, the old man stopped, Doris the crowd is here, they’re waiting.

We have to give them a performance like they’ve never experienced ever. Are you ready My Dearest?” Doris, a sweet hearted woman dressed in her brown wool coat, matching hat adorned with a white flower, her coat open enough to show her deep red dress covered in matching white flowers, her brown shiny sensible lace up shoes finished of this immaculately dressed woman. Oh how she loved dressing up.

Lost in a daydream for a moment, Joe and herself were a handsome couple. Impeccably dressed, charming and talented. They met at the opera 58 years ago. Doris was 19 and Joseph was 22. He was a conductor and she played violin. Together they were impeccably dazzling and brilliant.

Yes darling Joe, we must delight this wonderful crowd. This spot was as good as any, Doris thought to herself. There was a scattered few walking the lane, barely glancing at the odd old couple. Joe took his hat off his head and placed it on the ground, top down, picking up his stick, Doris’s face softened as she looked at him with love as he lifted his stick high into the air.

With a swiftness and agility belying his advanced years, he starts waving it all around. Joe stop, wait, please Doris says panicking.

At that very moment the watcher returned his watchful eye to observe the afternoons alley scene. The watchers eyes popped. What the? No! I cannot leave my spot for a minute he thought to him self.

“Leave her alone “shouted the angry watcher. He watched. The view from his room to the alleyway, was of an old man, he knew he was an old man because he was slightly rounded at the shoulders and knees slightly bent. Along with the graying receding hair line.

He thought himself a reliable source at assessing characters. I should’ve been a detective he marveled at this idea.

Oh what are you doing ? The streets were unsafe and noisy. People chatting without a care, cars honking, music playing. Everyone oblivious to what is going on before there very eyes.

Can they not see this? It appeared to him that this old codger was hitting a woman with his walking stick. He was waving that stick all around. The woman seemed small, probably frail, her small body hidden by the width of the man’s body, with his arms flying around, it made it hard for the watcher to get a good vision of the little old lady.

She seem to be ducking and weaving avoiding the strikes from the walking stick. Why isn’t anyone helping her. That poor dear. People were walking past and throwing things at them, they appeared to be laughing and smiling. But not helping the woman. Leave her alone you cantankerous old bully he shouted heatedly.

If anyone heard him, no one appeared to be making any movement or even acknowledged his shouts.

The watcher was contemplating what he should do next, he fiddled with his phone deciding whether to call the police or not. He didn’t want to exaggerate the situation. Like he did last time. OK OK so he misjudged a character once.

000 he tapped on his iPhone. Police.. how can I help? There is an old man attacking a little old lady with a walking stick in the lane way across the road from my apartment. Hurry, please hurry. People are walking past, no one is helping. What is wrong with people? Hurry please I’m scared he’s going to kill her.

“Mr Scout” the voice on the other end of the line spoke. “Is that you again? The last time this happened you made an error in judgement, how can you be sure this time?”

“I trust my own eyes sir” and it’s what they are seeing right this instance, violence, rampant brutal violence, trust me!

The roar of the sirens, red and blue lights flashing, stopping in the alleyway. The watcher is watching, he always watches, he watches everything.

The police delighting in the beautiful music,slowly moving toward the man from behind, they appeared to approach tenderly. Joe, oblivious to his surroundings is completely unaware of their advances. The man reaches his stick high above and hears, good afternoon Joe says the kind a police man.

Joe panics, and crouches down as if protectiing himself, fearful, confused, why is this policeman here Doris? Joe, this is Detective Bongars. He looks blankly.

Standing there is petite, sweet old Doris, holding a violin, she had been playing the most beautiful music. With a tear in her eye she’s looks forlornly at Joe. “Please play just a little more Doris” pleaded the detective. Well you just stop scaring my husband” she berates him with a soft smile.

The watcher can see her, scorning the officer, what is she holding? She looks ok. Huh? She’s playing the , umm violin, beautifully. Like magic. He had heard the sweet tunes earlier, but did stop to listen to the music.

The two officers and Doris are talking. They seem fond of her, they cuddle her delicately, then shake Joes hand, Who consequently is oblivious and they turn and walk away.

They stare up at the first floor apartment. Glaring, shaking there heads. Where are they going now? Are they heading towards my building?

Doris relieves her memory again of how her and Joe met.

It was love at first tune. Such sweet memories. They have lived a wonderful life, successful, happy, five beautiful children She was always pinching herself thinking how did I get so lucky. Two years ago Joe was diagnosed with dementia. He has never forgotten his Doris. Doris the beautiful 19-year-old he met all those years ago. Sadly that is where his memory has remained.

It was not a Walkingstick he was waving around, when he placed his hat on the ground he picked up his conductors baton, he was not trying to hit his wife, he was conducting the finest orchestra in Australia. In his eyes every day he heads off to work at some hall, where he conducts his Orchestra to thousands of people. But he only ever has eyes for Doris. The love of his life

Joe would never hurt Doris. Every day the elderly couple walk the streets, in Joes mind, he finds his crowd in some grand hall, as always the only one he has the eyes on is Doris.

People were throwing things at the couple they were throwing money, Joe and Doris made them happy, they made everybody happy, the crowd would cheer, people would clap, everyone threw money into his hat. The elderly were the unintentional buskers. Everyone around the streets of Melbourne knew Joe and Doris. Everyone except one person. The watcher

Knock knock. The watcher stayed very still.

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Challenges incorporated. Thank you to all

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/04/11/story-starter-challenge-april-11/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/04/10/story-starter-challenge-april-10/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/04/10/opposites-attract-challenge-april-10/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/04/11/elemental-writing-challenge-april-11/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/10/vengence/

https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/09/fowc-with-fandango-cantankerous/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/09/your-daily-word-prompt-brilliant-april-9-2019/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/12/your-daily-word-prompt-participate-april-12-2019/