Scorpions & Spiders Are Too Clever For Any Strategy Which We Can Contrive

Scorpions and spiders are too clever for any strategy which we can contrive. Artificial snakes will not fool them. At any impossible time and place, they make their unwelcome appearances. Scorpions have the nasty habit of visiting the bathroom when you do. Maybe they realise one’s unpreparedness in certain situations. Spiders, for some obscure reason, also seem to like that room. One of them even wormed itself into the bathroom scale. There he sits to this day, permanently trapped underneath the glass – not really an invitation for any householder to monitor on a regular basis the effect of all the “braai chops” and “Cape culture” on your mass!

Open-air spiders tax one’s patience and presence of mind. They spin their webs at more or less nose-height between trees, even across roads, without any concern for hikers, who suddenly find themselves with a mouth or hair full of spiderweb. Tokkie calls it the “internet” of Sabiepark. You’re always logged on, but with no choice of website!

Frog indabas, after a refreshing summer shower, can rudely disturb a good night’s sleep. The brown-backed tree frogs “haa…haa” without end. They probably feel they should shake up the world. Laugh and the world laughs with you! Other frogs, identity unknown, make one wonders what you’re hearing: an enthusiastic frog choir maybe, or perhaps an illegally-installed generator?

Foam-nest frogs are short-tailed chameleons in disguise. In the shade they appear to be grey; in sunlight they are chalk-white. Their real homes are trees, but they love the stoep during the day. In the evenings it is difficult to make them realise that the swimming pool actually belongs to us. Private Property. Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. These frogs love the outside drinks trolley, which, for some reason, had been painted white by the previous owner. They also love balancing on the frames of the large, laminated bird-placards on the stoep. On the trolley they appear so white that one can hardly see them. On the wooden frame they appear brown. Excellent camouflage!

A slimy frog experience was provided compliments of one of the foam-nest types.

I kicked off my hiking shoes in preparation for an afternoon nap in the deck chair. The little frog then found a hollow for its torso in the nose of my brown shoe. Holy smoke! I yelled and flung the shoe far away when I felt the scabby presence with my big toe. In defence – it could have been a scorpion. Another golden rule: always shake your shoe before putting it on, especially if you have left it outside.

The origin of the name “foam-nest frog” was initially brought home to me when I found a huge ball of “shaving foam” on the giant raisin-tree at the waterhole. In a reference book I discovered that it was a love nest. It had been beaten like cream by the lovers, with the assistance of a few diligent bachelors. In the nest, which is usually suspended from a branch over water, the eggs are laid – very convenient, taking into account “water-birth” cum baptism. “Foam-nest frogs?” Naturally!

I have never seen such a collection of lizards, rock lizards, salamanders, geckoes and similar creatures. Grey ones, coloured, long-tailed, tailless, blue-headed, yellow-headed. On the plastering and walls, inside and outside, there would always be one of these mini-crocodiles – mini- dinosaurs? – waddling back and forth on short legs. One lizard – only the length of a finger nail – came to the swimming pool to have a drink. Its eyes were surely larger than its tummy. An even tinier specimen – maybe the smallest of the fifty-odd types – was responsible for the most micro-mini “egglet” in the door lock of the bathroom.

Proverbs 30:28 comes to mind: “The gecko takes hold with its own hands and it is in the grand palace of a king.” Our bush house is not grand nor a palace, but we understand the sentiments of Solomon. Geckoes and lizards are everywhere.

One holiday we decided that we needed a bell at the front door. Shortly afterwards we received an unexpected evening call. Tokkie was in the bath and I was already in bed when the front door bell rang. Now who would? … And at this time of night too? Nobody, it seemed. After much racking of brains, we decided that a lizard must have crawled across the button. There may be a better explanation – who knows?

Lizards and their relations have perfected the surprise element. Just as difficult as it is to hit a fly, just as easy it is for a lizard to rake it in on its long tongue. Such “kills” occur regularly on the stoep of Tarlehoet. It is fascinating to watch. Humans are sometimes unpleasantly surprised. When taking a bath or washing the dishes, it often happens that one, usually ±14 centimetres in length, obese and pale green, suddenly appear from behind a rafter or curtain. Evidence of their digestive systems at work are found all over the place on the walls of Tarlehoet.

But, whether they ring your front door bell, or make a mess of your walls, it is sad to see one meeting its end prematurely in a washing trough, toilet bowl or in some other receptacle. Fatal accidents like that often happen. Therefore, when their holidays are over, considerate owners usually leave a branch in smooth receptacles as an escape route for victims of their own wanderlust. Owners also make sure that toilet lids are closed, to prevent thirsty little creatures from falling down and drowning.

Larger creatures in the same category include the blue-headed rock lizard. In November the head of the male is an extra deep blue colour. It is the breeding season, and nature ensures that the opposite gender takes note. At the corner of Wildevy and Apiesdoring we discovered a hole in a giant ant-heap. In this hole lives a really large rock lizard of more than half a metre. Its official name is the giant armourplated lizard, even though the “giant” is a bit of an exaggeration.

Like an old man, it spends its days on the stoep in the sun. If you cautiously creep closer on your toes, you may surprise it, scabby scales and all, in front of its hole. But it is very sensitive of oncoming traffic. At the slightest disturbance, it shoots down its dark tunnel. Under the weeping boer-bean tree behind our house lives a smaller relation with a yellow head. The yellow head is really only prominent when the sun shines warmly. It also does not relish human company. Sabiepark worms and bugs