mama rose in leather

 

I know.  I promised no more baby crocodile photographs.

But this one was too good to pass up.  Mama Croc as a bodyguard and a float toy.

The mother crocodile has amazed me.  She has been out there every day since these babies were born.  Even while the boys and girls are tearing up paving stones and tossing them at her -- like some Palestinian ruffians.

Last night I heard splashing in the pond.  Usually, when the sun goes down, the children of the stones disappear.  Probably realizing that the odds shift greatly in favor of the crocodiles in the dark.

But the splashing was not boys bent on mischief.  Papa Croc had returned to court Mama Croc. 

And that really surprises me.  I thought crocodiles laid eggs only once a year.  Maybe the crocodiles have decided it is time to produce some crocodile reinforcements to counter the stoning brigade.

One thing I know.  When I am gone, the crocodiles will still be here.  They do not need my guardianship to thrive.

Not witha protective mother llike this.  She gives the term "stage mother" a whole new meaning.