Warm air drifts through the Wattle bush beside the creek, where a honey bee darts between the flowers, seeking nectar to take home to the honey queen.
Water sparkles, splashes over small rock ledges, gathering in deep pools to cool the trout that linger there.
The mid-day silence is broken by the whirr of tiny wings.
Swooping across the top of the long grass that lays along the creek bank, Dragonfly settles on a dry stone in the circle of dancing water.
It pauses for a moment, whirrs to the right, then to the left, lifts off, then alights on the stone.
Under the willow tree, yellow green eyes study its every move.
With flickering tongue, the toad waits, unaware of the Eastern Silvereye poised on the opposite bank
Uncaring of the busy bee above, the Silvereye, its green feathers matching the moss under fine spindly feet, steps carefully to the edge of the bank.
Through one black and silver eye, it studies the time and distance to where the Dragonfly quivers in the sun.
Transparent wings a blur, the Dragonfly is airborne.
The toad slides forward, closer to the water.
The whirr ceases. Dragonfly lands on the wet rock beside a deep, cool, clear pool. Water spills over, dragging it into the rock smooth hole.
A moment it lingers, web fine wings try to flutter.
A brown headed trout breaks the surface, glassy eyed, opened mouthed, fine sharp teeth and is gone with the Dragonfly.
Toad blinks and looks elsewhere.
The bee, satiated with nectar attracts the attention of the Silvereye.
Warm air drifts through the Wattle bush beside the creek. All is quiet.