#53 Rain in the Hunter Valley

During the past 5 days I've tipped 165mm from my rain guage; some areas of the Hunter Valley have received more, especially the coast. According to the local TV station, Singleton's January average is 44mm - one-point-something-mm was measured this January, so this rain is a blessing.

The Hunter River in front of my home (16 Feb 09). The row of juvenile Casuarinas in the far centre of the image represents the eastern (near) bank, making the minor flooding apparent (peak at Singleton 15 Feb 09 was 2.45metres).


My stressed gardens have had a good drink, my crunchy yellow lawn is saturated and greening up, and my tanks are over-flowing! But that's not all - my backyard wildlife is singing with glee and literally jumping in the rain.

Frogs! Where do they all come from when the water begins to pool? I slopped around the backyard last night listening to the inarticulate chuckling ruckus exploding from the puddles hidden by darkness. I found it difficult to separate the different calls, but I think there were four species calling.

The puddles are in the grazing paddock adjoining our yard; the paddock is not ours, but I have access to it and will be looking forward to checking out the tadpoles. I can already see white frothy rafts, the results of frantic mating throughout the night. There's no mucking around with preliminaries in the spirited game of frog jumping; time is of the essence - once he's got his girl, it's grapple, mount, she lays eggs and he fertilises externally. Job done!

Puddles (frog nurseries) beyond my backyard

Naturally, I've been searching for frogs in my backyard. Ornate Burrowing Frogs, Opisthodon ornatus (formerly Limnodynastes ornatus) have been visiting my back porch, probably to hunt for insects. These colourful, fat, glum-looking frogs are an absolute delight to observe, even if they are rather inactive.

How could you not love this round little frog - mind you, he does look rather bored with my company, so perhaps the admiration is not mutual.


All manner of invertebrates have been flushed from their earthen homes by the excessive rain. A homeless Garden Wolf Spider (Lycosa godeffroyi), expectant mum and superior being of my backyard spider kingdom was also ahunting on my patio last night.

I'm rather fond of these hairy giants, but scared stiff at the same time. I wanted an up close and personal photo, but not just any old close-up - I wanted a view under that impressive torso held aloft by those lanky segmented legs.

I was well aware those legs were made for speed, and I have seen these beasties performing high jumps, so I had to focus on the end product to gather the courage to get down to eye-level with Mrs Wolfie with her precious egg sac in tow. Trouble was, to get the best angle, I had to back myself into a corner and get down on my belly - I broke all my rules and left myself without an escape route. . . . .

. . . . . but I got my picture!

Later, I was thrilled to witness a successful hunt as Mrs Wolfie ambushed a plump 1cm beetle. I shuddered as I heard the crunch . . . crack of her fangs grasping and piercing the beetle's crusty exoskeleton. It's a tough and violent world down there amongst the dirt and grass - or in this case, on my back step!