After our exciting day in Bell Gorge we were ready for a day off. A sleep in, relatively, and rose to a warm day with a light breeze. Someone pointed out to us that there was an owl roosting in a tree just outside our "glamping tent"

I 've since found out that it was a barking owl and that it is relatively common in the northern tropics of Oz.  Pretty, if thats the word for a predatory bird, but of only passing interest photographically as it was, apparently, asleep. Eyes shut.

We headed off for breakfast and noticed the sun catching the lovely pink flowers on a tree just outside of the Bar.

Some pics this time.  At breakfast Jamie announce that anybody interested could join him for a short trip to a waterhole for a swim. We opted out and on returning to our tent found that the owl had moved and was now look down with disdain at us. This time the camera came out, & in short order it was captured digitally. 

It was one of our fellow guests who mentioned seeing a rather unusual bower.  We found it between a couple of disused sheds and partly concealed by a bush, It was similar to our southern bowers except that instead of the usual blue adornments we expected, the entrance was piled up with little white rocks. No occupant at this stage so I went off to get my tripod and 10M extension cord for the camera; framed the picture and spent a very uncomfortable hour hidden behind one shed pressing the remote every minute or so. I figured that the bird would be back within that time and indeed it flew off rapidly as soon as I reappeared. It turned out that there were two. The results were less than spectacular, but I'm not sure I could have done any better, without being able to see what was happening.  Bright sun was catching the foliage around and above. The bower was almost black in comparison and the white stones didn't reflect into the bower. What threw me though was that the bird was grey, not the jet black male I expected or the lighter female. I've learned a lot more about the northern species since. The result is here for what it's worth after a lot of rescue work in Lightroom.

After lunch I took a stroll with the camera (of course), attracted by the Kites, both whistling and black, which are so numerous everywhere we've gone on this trip. Never did get a good shot of the black ones, but got the odd pleasing shot of the whistling, but nothing of great note. I did come across this sign from the time when Mount Hart was a stop for the fledgling airline business on the way to Europe. The airstrip is still there, but the traffic is confined to the tourists and Station business flights, I assume.

Time to get on a smaller coach and head up hill to a vantage point to watch the sundown. The view from here gave an elevated vision of the surrounding plains and Mount Hart, the twin hills that give the area its name.

The coach returned with the rest of the gang. We drank champagne and chatted and watched the sun kiss the nearby ridge. Tina and I got on the first coach trip to return, and I was rewarded by the remaining light picking out some trees and dust as the coach went for the rest.

Dinner and an early night, ready for the trip tomorrow out to Windjana Gorge and on to our last camp at Fitzroy River Crossing.