Blue Tongues

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It is always an unexpected delight to come across a blue tongue, all the more delightful when you realise you're not staring into the eyes of a snake.

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We must have a few that have decided to call our garden home, but they take the game of hide and seek to a whole new level. A rustle in the mulch and you spy a tail. Weeding round the strawberries and you catch a glimpse of the one that kindly tests every strawberry for you. Tidying the cottage garden and there's a face staring at you, hoping you don't look that way.

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Our first encounter with a blue tongue, quite an impressive size, was when we first moved in. It had happily taken up residence in the unused shed and had lived there quite contentedly until we dared to start moving things around. Deciding the shed was no longer a peaceful refuge, it bolted across the garden onto the deck and straight into the house. The house was a case of out of the frying pan...... It ran straight into the bedroom, much to the surprise and delight of our cats, two of whom were consummate mousers. Armed with our trusted blue towel, we bravely cornered our intruder and found it a more acceptable place to hide.

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It was a gorgeous specimen. Big, healthy looking and proud to show off its tongue.

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We have had one ambling up the path, not a care in the world and another sunning itself in the greenhouse. The resident of the veggie garden is particularly cute. If you happen to spy it next tothe garden beds it will stay very still in the mistaken belief that still means invisible. It must think it's worth it because it has strawberries on tap in the hotter months. If we are lucky we get some too.

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The duck pond is another source of delight for them, unfortunately without such a happy outcome. I picked one out of the pond (bath) one day and was hissed at for my troubles. The next time we emptied the pond I found it dead. Imagine my dread when I saw another one in the pond just recently. I went to scoop it out and it turned to stare at me. I picked it out, stone cold and almost comatose, but alive. Carrying it carefully to a much warmer place, I left it to regain its composure. It thawed out, warmed up and moved on. There haven't been anymore encounters in the pond.

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Blue tongues don't draw attention to themselves, so whiling away the hours watching them is not an option. Rather our rare encounters are more serendipidous and are all the more delightful for their unexpectedness.

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