Our 114^th night filming walk was the first in exactly four weeks, thanks to a combination of rainy weather and the difficulty of finding a crew. Mark & Hugh are no longer regularly available and a new-comer cried off last week. Ideally I would like to film at night once a week during the season (from mid September to mid May).  This evening we returned to Palm Grove where I filmed a tiny snail on a palm leaf, a cage built by a moth larva in which it pupates and a pair of mating katydids. Valerie’s Austin Bug Collection website provides a succinct account of an act which appears to be quite secretive and which she has never seen. “The male transfers a large jelly-like mass called a spermatophore to the female. This has two parts: a small packet of sperm which is inserted into the female followed by a larger glob of nutritious gel, a nuptial gift that the female consumes to help with egg production.” For the statistically minded, this is my 350th post.

As the media is fond of reporting, the Gold Coast and its hinterland dodged a bullet as ex-cyclone Marcia veered out to sea instead of continuing its overland deluge southwards. The more than 200 mm of rain that fell on the mountain in a little more than 2 days was but a vigorous glancing blow. Yesterday I collected the camera from Steve. He was able to capture the six tapes, the time-coded DVDs of which I hope to pick up later this week. We agreed that I should use my back-up camera for establishing shots. Today I filmed more butterflies and used the back-up camera to film wide shots of the flowering vine which attracts them. I also used it to reprise wide shots of a small flowering plant growing out of the trunk of a maple tree and to re-shoot a definitive garden shed.

We started tonight’s shoot in The Knoll at the regular time. While still in the picnic area I filmed a 2 ½ metre Carpet Python slowly on the move. It looked as if it had almost recovered from its latest meal. The night was mild and there was much to see if not to film. We had just begun our return when for the first time ever we saw an eel in the pool beyond the bridge over Sandy Creek. Our previous night walk in the park was little over a month ago, just after rain had revitalised the rainforest, but the pool was almost without water and the creek was little more than a trickle. Further rain, culminating in over 200 mm in two days a week ago, had transformed the scene. But mystery surrounds the sudden presence of the eel which was a good metre long, indicating that it must have been in these waters for a considerable time.