Since the old tree was cut down, the monkeys’ routine has been haphazard and unpredictable. What has been noticeable, since they have nowhere here to meet en famille, so to speak, is that they’re checking out trees and perches where I’ve never seen them before. One fellow came to sat on the wall, just outside my window, the other day, and I’ve seen small groups hanging out in the branches of the cinnamon tree, above my garage.
Of Papa, the only sign I have of his existence is his booming challenges, and the sound of his crash landings in the trees behind me. I’ve not seen young Hanuman and his mother for a while. Every now and again I have been glimpsing a mother with a baby – smaller even than Hanuman was when I first met him, but I couldn’t be sure. Until yesterday.
Mum’s very shy, and very much of the ‘if I don’t look at you, you can’t see me’ school of thought – something she’s not yet taught her bub. Here, have a look. I managed to get off a couple of shots before she did a two-step dematerialization from the branches of the custard apple, to under the branches of the custard apple, to across the roof and far away.