In the warmth of a mid-afternoon sun, aplatypus glides effortlessly through a creek in northern New South Wales. Barely disturbing the mirrored surface, it weaves between submerged branches and over sandy shallows, its sleek brown fur glistening whenever it rises for a quiet breath. Shafts of sunlight dance across the water as dragonflies skim the surface and a kingfisher waits patiently from an overhanging tree.
or a few precious moments, the ancient monotreme has the creek entirely to itself. Unhurried and perfectly at home, it searches the muddy bed with its remarkably sensitive bill before disappearing beneath the amber water once more. It is a fleeting encounter, but one that serves as a gentle reminder that some of Australia's greatest natural treasures are found not in grand landscapes, but in the quiet creeks that continue to shelter wildlife much as they have for millions of years.
Ironcally, ornithorhynchus was one of the longest words I learnt to spell in school over 50 years ago.
Made in PTE V11 and captured on Monday afternoon after the previous drone lighthouse video was captured in the morning.
Some days are diamonds and some days are gold.