A few Christmas holidays ago I spent a few days down on the South Coast in a beach house. Driving along and walking to the beach through the dunes and dune grasses. Found a dead Death Adder on the road that had been half squashed on the road but still alive. Gives one thoughts about how lucky we are they are usuallly scared of us too. I hate the bloody things.

As kids we used to visit a property in a semi-arid area on the other side of the ranges. It had a number of old ruined cottages built by settlers in days before they realised that the rains when they farmed were not normal and that one year in five was only good. Anyway one of these had a large stone walled 'tank' in the ground built to collect run-off. Now dry. But snakes would slither into the inlets and fall into the tank and not be able to get out. The most we found in the tank was five of the buggers. All common browns. A shearing shed nearby and resident mice probably attracted them. The old cottages often had calico or canvas ceilings. The snakes would also be in the roofs and ready to fall down when you went in. At least that is what us kids were told.

We no longer have this property but it was a great place for seeing big red roos, greys, an occaisonal emu, snakes, rabbits and foxes. Had resident eagles nests in the trees. And if you looked for tracks close enough could find little "plantations" of green plants being grown in little pots hidden among the salt bush.