When we were living in Helensville we had a tiny visitor, this wee guy (guyette?) was on a pile of tissue thingies—
—and posed patiently long enough for me to score the shot. I galloped off to fetch The Spouse but he’d gone by the time we came back. As for the next—
Spouse is an artist. Nature-type stuffs, which of course includes bugs and their habitats.
Now: I’ve often thought wasps as effectively indestructible . Once, after I’d nuked a few wasp nests in the hedges (you sneak up on them in the dead of night with a fly-spray in each hand and really drench ’em) I went back next day to check ’em out and found this little empty nest.
So no-one home, and Spouse utilising such things, I took it in for her. No fool, she found a wee glass jar with a tight lid and popped it. Before we put the lid on I gave it another good solid spraying.
(about six months, from memory) she pulled out the jar to study her subject and this wee crittur emerged … he didn’t live long after; I opened it just enough to remake the world inside inconducive to life—again—and later buried that sucker deep in the back field. Brrrrr~!
A tiny artefact we lifted from a Scottish beach. It’s made of some kind of stone, is only about an inch or so in length, was found among granite (and other) rounded pebbles not far above the high tide line—
—and we have no idea what it might be.
Make of it what we may, all suggestions eagerly received …
as a challenging subject: