I received my visa for Denmark a few days ago, which means all systems are go.

I’m counting down the days until I leave for Copenhagen, trying to fortify my body with Vitamin D before I’m consigned to sub-zero temps and cloudy winter. Therefore, I feel an affinity with the reptiles I met this weekend at Yagan Mia, aka Wireless Hill, who spent the day lazing on sunlit rocks and branches. Truly, we are more similar than not.

I went to school about 500 metres from Yagan Mia, but I never visited of my own volition until my university years – and even then, at my boyfriend’s behest. I didn’t really appreciate what a remarkable site I had practically at my front door.

Wireless Hill was so named because it once hosted an important wireless telegraph station. However, this station was made defunct in the 1960s, and since then has been utilised as an urban pocket of bushland for residents to enjoy. Native wildflowers bloom in the spring, and there is an unmissable panoramic view of Point Walter from the top of the old radio mast anchor.

As an enthusiast of all things furry, feathery and scaly, it’s a great place to go for a quick walk. You’re almost guaranteed to see a specimen that will pique your interest. For me last Saturday, it was this handsome Western limestone ctenotus (a name which I am content to merely spell and not say aloud.)

As part of my foray into photography, I received a new lens for my birthday. I was eager to test it out, and thus upon hearing a slight rustle in the bushes next to us, went into full Steve Irwin mode.

Bird photography is not something I’ve mastered yet, so I’ve stuck to the easier subjects of magpies and ravens, who move far less and are easily bribed with scone crumbs. But who says these birds are any less compelling subjects than those fancy rare parrots? I’ve always respected them for their fearsome intelligence and adaptability, and they have their own charm.

One juvenile magpie had figured out that hanging around human children at the cafe is an effective method of foraging.

And this raven struck quite an imposing figure on a fallen tree branch.

I’ll miss the Aussie wildlife when I go, but it’s au revoir, not a farewell. When I come back, it’ll hopefully be to another blistering Perth summer – there’s nothing else quite like it.