A four line poem about: green.
The first seeds of the season went into the soil today. In the greenhouse, but still - it might as well be spring already. Now somebody tell that to the howling, freezing cold wind out there.
Right, I promised boat trip pictures. Our guide picked us up on the beach behind our guesthouse, arriving right on time in his motorboat. Here's a shot of a particularly undeveloped stretch of coast we cruised by:
Shortly after that we came across a group of feeding pelicans. We hung out with them for a while and our guide borrowed my camera to take a few pictures. I think he might have done that once or twice before:
Here's us in the boat:
When we finally got to Black River it didn't take us long to spot a crocodile:
But this guy, hanging out on the beach, was definitely the highlight:
I'm going to have to share a link to the full collection of pictures once I get them all uploaded - I feel like I'm skipping so many in order to not swamp the blog with them.
Black seeds buried in brown soil,
We're all feeling so keen;
Now we'll add some clear waterAnd pray it comes up green.