The Boss took us out to Loch Garry the other day for a picnic with the billy-lids and we had it all to ourselves.
That's the way The Boss likes it and so do I. He can't figure out why this magic spot - just a little way north of town - is pretty much empty of people, most of the time.
His theory is most people are sitting at home watching the footy on TV, or Netflix or something - and that's a good thing. They don't clutter up the bush, he reckons.
There's a few young bucks who tear around in four-wheel drives (like he used to do) but fortunately they head for the hills. And none of the city folk every think of the river in winter, when it can be at its best. Besides, they all head north to the Murray, leaving the Goulburn to the locals. It just goes to show they don't know much.
Of course, Loch Garry is supposed to be there for flood mitigation but its pretty much a swamp, I guess, and most people don't think much of swamps. But The Boss likes them a lot, and so do I. There's always a lot going on.
Like, the other day, in the middle of winter, we saw plenty of action. Teal, Black Duck and Cormorants cruised up and down the arm, landing here and there and making a fuss. We watched a pair of Great Egrets working the other side of the arm, stealthy and dead slow - then pouncing on a minnow or bug, like lightening.
And two pairs of Whistling Kites circled overhead most of the time, whistling now and then and keeping an eye out for opportunity.
There was a snake bird too - the Australasian Darter is its proper name, according to The Boss. It poked along, ducking under here and there, with its neck thrusting backwards and forwards with no particular target in mind. I like to sink my teeth into one of them, just for fun.
There were White-Winged Choughs and Ravens and Kookaburras to add a bit of interest, but I thought the pork sausages were the highlight of the day myself. Followed by the bread crusts the billy-lids let fall, then I managed to mop up a marshmellow or two as they slipped off the end of their sticks as they tried to toast them in the fire.
The Boss reckons marshmallows are no good for my teeth but I don't usually stop to ask him, as you know. Never let chance go by, is my motto. I've sucked 'em down before he gets out of his chair. Woof.