She's trying!

  Ms. Nycto, the abandoned cat that we adopted, has no idea how to be a Bayou Cat.  She stalks leaves as prey, only eats store-bought cat food and still has not figured out that rain gets her wet.  She sits on the porch rail through the strongest of rainstorms instead of seeking shelter.  Ms. Put, on the other hand, knows to head under the house or into the shed.  Ms. Nycto sits on the railing and soaks up all the rain with her long fur.  I try to coax her inside but to no avail.  Her lack of commonsense must be due to the fact that she was obviously someone's "indoor" lap cat and not a rough and tumble survivor like Ms. Put.  Both were "throwaway" cats.  Ms. Put was tossed from a moving car as a kitten.  She made her way through the creek and woods to the Little Bayou House.  Along the way, she caught small critters to eat and was able to outsmart predators that might have made a meal out of her.  Ms. Nycto was abandoned as a fully grown cat.  When we found her, she was emaciated, matted and vermin-infested.  She had no idea how to survive and the end was near until we stepped in to care for her.
   
  Her inability to "fit in" on the Bayou has cost her a bit of her pride, though.  She is constantly being humiliated by the other critters. Lizards, frogs and birds are getting the best of her!  The woodpeckers and cardinals eat most of her overpriced cat food and frogs simply terrify her.  The lizard?  Well, at least she caught its tail even though she knew not what to do with it.  Still, the cat is trying as she pulls guard duty in the garden.  Several times she has decided that the peach trees make the perfect shade for her beauty sleep.  The birds and squirrels have yet to figure out that this cat is a far cry from being the hunter of Ms. Put.  While she naps, the other critters chatter and twitter among themselves and dare not raid the plump peaches.  (If only I could convince her to stay there permanently!)  

  Yesterday morning, I found her in an entirely different place.  Her resting spot was high on the top of the herb shelf.  Here she had a clear view of the entire kitchen garden spot.  She was able to protect (and I use the word lightly) my crops from the voles and squirrels.  Her long, fluffy tail swished unceasingly which  kept the critters alerted to her presence.  Even while she was dozing, the tail swished.  Back and forth, back and forth, like the pendulum in the old mantel clock.  Was she aware of how well she was ridding the garden of pests?  I doubt it.  Still, it is nice to see her adapting to life around here.  Now if I can only teach her to stay out of the rain!

Good or bad?

  I love watching the birds about the Bayou.  Their antics and beauty never cease to amaze me.  It is an enjoyable pastime that has been passed down to me by my grandmother.  She loved to watch the birds through the large picture window in her house.  Granddad created a large bird feeder out of a sliding board and erected it directly under the window.  Here she could watch dozens of birds from the comfort of her rocking chair.  My birding does not include a rocking chair.  I am more apt to be out traipsing about in the muck and mire of the Bayou than sitting inside the house.  I guess I differ a good bit from Grandmother but, then again, I share so many traits with her...loving the birds is one of them.

  Between the rain showers today, I spied a pair of birds that were new to me.  Not that these were any rare birds by far but I just have not seen any about the Bayou before.  It seems that this is the trend lately which is perhaps brought on by the encroachment of human population on all sides of me.  The birds, however, seem to make themselves at home and never leave.  This is all good with me.  My two newest discoveries have some bad habits, though, and make me wonder if I will appreciate their presence as time passes.  The Brown-headed Cowbirds are brood parasites meaning that they do not build their own nests.  In fact, they do nothing to rear their young.  The female Cowbird is literally an egg-laying machine of a bird laying up to three dozen a season.  She will lay an egg in another bird's nest and will sometimes devour the other bird's eggs. This sounds quite mean to me but is just another strange thing that occurs in nature.  The cowbird eggs hatch much quicker than the host bird's eggs which gives an advantage to the chick.  It will be fed and be much stronger than its nest mates by the time they hatch.  The baby cowbird will sometimes be quite brutal and shove the host bird's eggs from the nest or even smother the new hatchlings if need be. This is all about survival for the baby cowbird.  Occasionally, the host bird will recognize that there is a strange egg in her nest and will destroy it before it hatches.  If the host bird is too small to remove or destroy the egg, she might rebuild her nest over top of the egg so it will not hatch. So goes the weird, parasitic habits of the Brown-headed Cowbird.

  The bird itself is rather pretty...at least the male is.  The female is more nondescript being buff-colored with darker brown markings.  He is glossy black with a lovely chocolate-colored head making him appear quite stately.  They received the name Cowbird from their habit of following a herd of cattle or horses about in pastures.  As the hooves of the larger critters stir up the ground, the Cowbirds feast upon insects. That fact makes them land on my "good" list.  The parasitic habits makes them land on my "bad" list.  I am a bit torn as to whether I want them to stay on the Bayou or be on their merry way to other parts.  (Not that I have a lot of choice where they decide to live!)  Still, it was fun to discover a new bird in these parts!  Grandmother would be proud that I made the correct identification.

Tragedy strikes the Bayou

  There comes times on the Bayou that life just seems unfair.  Perhaps it is just me.  I seem to grow attached to wild critters that roam and fly about the marshes and wooded areas so that when something happens, it tugs at the heartstrings a bit.  I know that life continues but at times things happen that make you wonder how critters ever survive at all. This afternoon saw us enduring a rather strong storm.  We have had torrential rains and high winds for the past couple of days but this afternoon's gale seemed much worse.  The winds were well onto tropical storm strength.  It made for a rough time but the Little Bayou House held and we were snug as a bug.  The critters sought shelter where they could but some of those shelters were not so safe. 

  Late afternoon saw a clearing of the skies for a short while.  Mark and I took advantage of this and headed out for our hike.  As soon as we stepped outside, we noticed something was amiss.  The tall, dead Black Gum tree had been knocked topless.  The entire top of the tree had crashed down on my new lawn furniture.  One of the chairs was smashed but I hardly noticed.  On the ground under the pile of rubble was a tiny, lifeless body.  Oh, my goodness!  My poor baby!  I reached down to pick up the small Redbellied Woodpecker when I spied his sibling.  The two fledglings had obviously came back to their nest to ride out the severe weather.  When the wind blew down the top of the tree, their home had become a deathtrap.  The two young birds were crushed beneath the very tree in which they felt safe.  My poor babies.  It was then that I saw Mama and Papa Woodpecker frantically searching the non-existent treetop for their little ones.  This family had endured so many problems during nesting only to have it end in tragedy.  My heart was breaking for the pair.  

  This is just one of the times that makes me realize how fleeting life really is.  The birds perished before their life had really begun.  Ours are just as temporary.  We are not promised tomorrow.  Please take time to cherish what little time there is.  Hug your family members and tell them you love them.  Slow down and take time to do something that makes you happy.  Smile.  Visit that elderly neighbor that sits for hours staring out the window dreaming of days gone.  Bring them some fruit, a flower, a homemade loaf of bread or even just a smile. Teach a child how to play hopscotch, marbles or sew a doll dress.  Take care of your health.  Be happy and thank the Good Lord that your life is filled with so many, many blessings....even those that you cannot see.  I am thankful for you, my friends.

Introducing Althea Rose Sharon Bush!

  I get amused at the names given to plants.  If you will remember, I have touched on this subject several times before but today, I found another plant whose name tickled me.  Althea Bush!  Now, to me this sounds more like I have a fine lady visiting the gardens rather than me visiting a shrub in the garden.  The Althea Bush had a single bloom on it before the rains set in this morning.  That bloom has now been beaten to shreds by the torrential downpour but it was gorgeous before all of its trauma.  The bloom got me thinking about the name of the plant.  Althea Bush is a pretty name suitable for the finest of ladies.  As matter of fact, I know several ladies with the last name of Bush and they are all perfectly genteel, Southern belles.  This plant is no different. It is a true Southern Belle as well since it loves hot weather.  What struck me as being a bit humorous is the fact that not only can this be a quite respectful name for a human, the other name for the plant is just as proper.  Rose of Sharon.  Think about it. My shrub's full name can be Althea Rose Sharon Bush!  

  The Althea or Rose of Sharon belongs to the hibiscus family.  It, like all hibiscus plants, tends to love hot, humid weather which makes it perfect to grow here on the Bayou.  We have a never ending supply of that humidity!  It is also rather cold hardy as well.  Whereas the ice storms this past winter, wreaked havoc on most of my hibiscus bushes, the Althea Bush was not harmed.  This seems a tad strange since I had moved the hibiscus bushes into the shed and quite literally forgot about the poor Althea.  The hibiscus bushes froze...the Althea did not!  The shrub is easy to grow and to propagate by cuttings or seeds.  Notice that I feel it necessary to capitalize the name!  I am beginning to feel if my shrub has a true persona here! She (with the name of Althea Rose Sharon, the shrub is definitely a female) is fast becoming part of the family!  Once you name something there is no denying the kinship.  My next project is to propagate hundreds of Altheas and name them all!  I could start a trend here!

Rain Forest on the Bayou!

  I am not sure just what has happened to the plants on the Bayou but my place is starting to resemble a rain forest with all of the overgrowth! Today, for the third time this spring, I had to prune the wisteria vine. It had another growth spurt and literally looked like one huge mound of vines.  Traipsing under the arbor had become rather treacherous since it sits right next to the Frog Pond.  Any number of snakes might have lurked in the cool darkness under the vines.  Being tired of fighting my way through the mass of vines, I wielded the snips to entanglement!  An hour later, I had a huge pile of rubbish to carry down to the trash heap. The wisteria is not the only plant that needs a haircut, though!  The roses and jasmine are about to take over the house!  Help is needed quickly!!  The garden, in general, is fast becoming overcrowded!

  Late this evening, I noticed that the Gloriosa Lilies had taken over an entire section of the Rose Garden.  These things were covered with their most unusual blooms.  The reds and yellows contrast nicely with the bright green of their leaves.  I love these plants as they were favorites of Pop's.  He had gotten a bulb from one of his friends and babied it until he was able to share the plants.  His grew to nigh on ten feet tall and were always covered with blooms. Mine, on the other hand, have always been smaller with fewer blooms until this year.  Now, they are living up to their name!  Glorious!  The bud of the lily hangs downward but once the petals open, they reach for the sky.  It almost looks like the bloom opens entirely backwards!  When first open, they are yellow with touches of red making the blooms look like flames but as they age, the petals darken to a deep red.  On one plant there can be quite the variety of blooms.

  The Gloriosa Lily is a climbing lily.  Unlike most climbing plants, the tendrils do not form on the vine but rather on the ends of the leaves.  If you look carefully in the picture, you can see the nice curl that grasps ahold to a trellis or nearby plant.   Mom used to always say if you stood by the plant long enough, the tendrils would attach themselves to you!  I fully believe this as they have quite a grip! This is just another interesting point about the Gloriosa that makes it a fine addition to the garden!

 


 

Bad time to get out of the pool!

  The American Green Tree Frog tadpoles have been doing their morphing into froglets this whole week.  Between those and the baby toads, the yard is hopping with wee froglets!  It is impossible to take a single step without having a few underfoot.  Fortunately, they seem to be able to flatten themselves enough that a simple footstep does not harm them.  The shoe has to be twisted into the dirt before they have problems.  My soft, leather moccasins seem to do no damage but, just to be on the safe side, I step lightly. The little froglets climb up on anything handy during this stage of their life.  My waterlilies and water hyacinths seem to be a fine perching point for the change to occur.  At any given time, hundreds of little froggies can be observed in the water plants if you know where to look. The green tree frogs' color gives them the perfect camouflage while on the leaves.  If one did not know that the frogs were climbing onto the plants, they might be passed unseen..at least by humans.

  I watched as the little froglets left the safety of the Frog Pond to climb upon the lily pads.  Mostly, this even went smoothly.  The froglets were able to rest and finish their change from tadpole to full frog in the warm sunshine.  One, however, met with danger right at the beginning!  Poor little froglet chose the wrong water hyacinth as its perch.  It climbed up the first stalk to be met face to face by a wolf spider!  Granted this was a smallish spider but it still would have made a meal of such a tiny frog! The froggy spied the spider and immediately slipped back into the water.  Froggy then chose a different hyacinth to use as his exit spot. Meanwhile, the spider sat quite still as it awaited another meal to make its way onto the hyacinth.  Froggy was safe for the time being.  Once he climbed onto the leaf, he sat still to warm in the sun before making the full exit from the pond.  This path led him up the stalk of a Spiderwort plant onto the wisteria vine.  From there he made his way to the top of the arbor to hide beneath the vines until nightfall.  

  Out of the thousands of baby frogs and toads that exit the Frog Pond, a good many will fall prey to such things as this spider.  Predators are many when you are so tiny but tiny or not, the frogs and toads are predators themselves.  They rid the gardens of myriads of bugs!  Love my froggies!



 

Sensory Delight!!!

  For the past few years, I have been reading and getting an earful from well-meaning folks about the so-called invasive species.  Yep, there are species of both flora and fauna that can be classified as invasive. Usually, these have been brought in from other countries as novelties and just never left.  Now they have a foothold and are making a major nuisance of themselves.  One such invasive species is what we call Mimosa.  The tree is actually called something like Albizia Julibrissin but since that is far to difficult to say or even remember, Mimosa is the favored name.  It is on that all-hated "Invasive Species" list as one that will "take over" and push out native plants.  It does, indeed, spread like wildfire...but it IS a pretty wildfire plant!  I happen to like the Mimosa trees in the yard.  I did not plant them nor cultivate them.  They just happened so I left them.  I have had several folks beg for "starts" of the tree and I have happily obliged.  These same folks have come back to report that the tree did not fare so well.  It seems that the saplings are a favorite food of deer and rabbits.  I knew that the rabbits gnawed the bark but was in the dark about the deer.  It makes sense, though, that if one critter likes to munch something, others will follow.

  Late this evening, Ms. Ez, the dog, and I were taking a last minute hike about the hillside.  When we made our way back behind the greenhouse, I suddenly caught a whiff of something delightful!  Even Ms. Ez held her head high and sniffed!  The large Mimosa trees were in full bloom!  Wow!  I did not want to head back into the house.   Mother Nature was bombarding the Bayou with her own form of aromatherapy! The sweet, spicy yet flowery scent was nigh on intoxicating!

  It is a well-known fact down here in the Deep South, that certain scents can change the mood.  With our Jasmine, Mimosa (Albizia) and Southern Magnolias, we have our share of the most delightful aromas to tickle the senses.  Perhaps that is why true southerners have the reputation of being a bit more laid-back and more hospitable that folks dealing with the rat race in some big metropolis.  The image of a front porch furnished with rocking chairs sets the stage.  As the sun drops below the pines, the heavenly scent of the Sweet Three...Mimosa, Magnolia and Jasmine starts to linger heavy on the air.  Just as you are starting to enjoy the evening, crickets and frogs begin their nightly serenade near the pond.  At first, this seems like a cacophony that reaches deafening heights but then it mellows and becomes part of the southern night.  It doesn't get much better than this.  (Well, maybe if you add a tall glass of icy sweet tea!)  Yep, the senses are on overload!  Come sit a spell and enjoy life.

This is NOT a venomous snake!!

  We seem to have an overabundance of rat snakes (aka chicken snakes) around the Bayou this year.  Just this past week, I have come across about a dozen or more in trees, under bushes and just hanging out under the bird feeders.  Wait!  Under the bird feeders?  Not good! Those need to be shooed a bit further down the hill!  I do not mind the snakes as they do catch tons of rodents and bugs but when they start stalking the birds, they have to contend with this bird lover!  Just yesterday, I found a small snake on the board path that leads to the pier. This one was not a threat to much merely because of his size but I still did not wish to have him underfoot.  My snake removal skills were called into action and the critter was relocated a bit further away.  He now resides down by the canebrake where I won't be quite so apt to step on him.  I figure that every one of these snakes is a welcome addition to the area.  These guys will do a grand job eradicating the billion or so voles that have made a network of tunnels underground.

  Then today, Ms. Ez was supposed to be doing her squirrel-chasing duties but instead was lounging about on the steps.  I came around the side of the house and startled her into action.  She leapt to her feet and raced down the hill to the infamous "squirrel tree".  (This is the tree where she always thinks a squirrel should run but it never does).  She chased the imaginary squirrel and treed him high in the limbs of the hickory tree. As she did this, I could see that she actually skidded to a halt right on top of a snake!  This one was a nice size one and might have actually taken a nip at the dog but obviously did not connect. Ms. Ez came bounding back up the hill all excited that she had rid the feeders of the nonexistent squirrel!  The snake stayed put at the base of the tree.  After convincing the dog to sit, I decided that I had better confirm that this was indeed another rat snake and not a cottonmouth moccasin.  I can tolerate the non-venomous rat snakes in the yard but not the dangerous cottonmouths.  Those have to go!  

  Sure enough, this was a rat snake.  It seemed awfully docile, though.  It did not even try to move.  Hmmm.  I figure this was a good time to get great "snake" pictures!  Several bulges told me that this particular snake had obviously just eaten which explained its hesitance to move. The four feet long snake did not even mind that I poked the camera within inches of its face!  I was able to take my time to admire the beauty of the creature.  I have truly come to appreciate snakes.  The poor critters are probably the most misunderstood of all creatures.  They do not have the cute, fuzziness of bunnies nor the brightly colored feathers of birds.  A lot of folks have the "kill all snakes" mentality and that includes ones like this very docile, very friendly rat snake.  I guess this one had better just hang about the Bayou where at least it is safe!

One of the Few

  I guess I am just one of the few.  To many  folks, the battle with bugs is most irritating.  Not just bugs that are detrimental to one's well-being but bugs in general are looked upon as threats.  I admit that I have been in a constant struggle with termites, fleas and Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers but, overall, I can tolerate most anything.  This tolerance makes me one of the few. I have no problem sharing a bit of my garden with caterpillars especially!  Those make me happy as I know that, given time, that caterpillar will turn to a beautiful moth or butterfly.  Their presence in the garden makes losing a bit of leaf worthwhile.  Plus, the effort spent handpicking the mushy critters is just not worth it.  I would rather share my garden.  In fact, I have gone so far as to move plants AND caterpillars into a protected area before unexpected early freezes.  It just makes me happy to know that perhaps I have done my part in helping the world see a bit of beauty. This beauty would be totally eradicated if left to some chemical-spray-happy folks.  "Eeek!  A bug! Quick grab the all-killing-insecticide and douse the plant!"  Yep, that sounds like some folks I know.  Nope, that does not sound one bit like me.  These same folks are the ones that will bemoan the fact that they never see butterflies or fireflies about their property.  Hmmmm. Imagine that!  Caterpillars are safe on the Bayou as are fireflies and any other friendly critters.  (Beware termites, fleas and Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers.  You are not on my "friendly list"!)

  One such caterpillar is the Orange Dog.  This is the "baby" that will become a lovely Giant Swallowtail butterfly.  The caterpillar is rather weird looking as it bears a strong resemblance (and smell) to bird poop! The ugly bug does evolve into the most lovely of butterflies, though! This past year, I noticed a good many of the leaves on the citrus trees were curling and were being eaten by some unseen critter.  It took a while before my eyes were able to focus on the culprit.  The Orange Dog caterpillar finally moved and brought a bit of attention to itself. Aha!  There you are, my friend!  I watched a bit and then went on my way.  This morning, I was weeding under the Satsuma tree when I had a delightful surprise.  Right there in front of my face, a Giant Swallowtail was emerging from its chrysalis!  Oh, my goodness!  I was spellbound for a good hour!  No more weeding for me! A butterfly was far more important to me.  Butterflies SHOULD be far more important to everyone.  I should not be one of the few who care enough about things like this. We all should do our part to use insecticides wisely and safely (if at all!).

 

 

The Perils of being Gilbert!

  I try to arise early in the morn simply because I feel better when doing so.  Pop always used to quote old Ben Franklin with "Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise."  I don't know about the wealthy and wise bit but I do, indeed, feel a lot healthier when I am up out of bed with the sunrise. This, also, gives me the added benefit of doing a good many chores before the day warms to an uncomfortable temperature during the summer months.  Things can get a tad humid during the middle of the day here on the Bayou.  So, my day starts early and starts with the "mandatory" mug of coffee!  Here lately, I have had the neatest little visitor join me as I brew the pot of coffee.  A tiny green frog climbs up the wall and sits on the screen of the kitchen window.  There he will stare at me with his big eyes as I putter around the kitchen.  I make sure to talk to him and even "tickle" his belly through the screening.  He seems to like this so it has become sort of a morning ritual as the coffee pot does its magic.

  This morning, I noticed that Gilbert (yes, I named the frog!) had not gravitated toward the window screen.  He stayed on the wall and just stared at me. Hmmm?  Since Gilbert was not coming for his belly rub, I pondered what could be wrong.  Oh, my!  Perhaps I offended him in some way!  (Just joking there, folks.  I really don't go around worrying about offending frogs.  Not often anyway!)  I decided to investigate why Gilbert just sat plastered to the wall.

   I slipped out the back door just in time to see a small Black Racer slip under the Montbretia leaves.  This plant grows from corms that multiply rapidly so the clump of leaves completely hid the snake.  Poor Gilbert must have been chased from those very leaves minutes before I came to the kitchen!  At least the froggy was able to leap to the wall and clamber up before the snake made breakfast of him!  I shooed the snake away from the house and on toward the blackberry patch.  There the snake was sure to find plenty to eat and could do a fine job of protecting the berries!  Gilbert, though, refused to leave his spot on the wall so there would be no belly rubs this morning!

 

The Leaf Huntress!

  Ms. Nycto, the new cat, was definitely someone's house cat at some point.  How she came to be roaming about the marshes is anybody's guess.  When we found her she was infested with fleas and ticks and emaciated.  The poor baby needed help and needed help fast!  So, long story made short, she became one of the family.   I did not need another cat, nor want another cat but here she is. One thing we immediately noticed and thought was strange, Ms. Nycto cannot hunt.  It is a fact that Ms. Put, the Bayou Cat, would not starve to death if she ever found herself in such a predicament.  She has no problem catching food and finding water. Ms. Nycto cannot catch a thing save the one lizard that she de-tailed and then had no idea that it was food. 

Ms. Nycto being her usual diva self.

  All of this is not for a lack of trying.  She chases leaves quite well!  Today, Son was out putting rafters up on the greenhouse when he saw Ms. Nycto chasing something behind the shed.  He thought this was great and thought perhaps she was actually about to learn a skill other than her perfected one of sleeping.  After a few minutes, she proudly came around the shed and meowed at him.  She had her prey! Being up on the rooftop, he could not see exactly what that prey was, though, so down he climbed. She kept meowing for him to come see.  She was extremely proud and wanted him to know that she had done a good deed!  He squatted down next to her and reached to take the unfortunate critter from her.  She gladly plopped the....leaf...in his hand!  Yep, Ms. Nycto had caught another leaf!  Her pride in presenting it to Michael was quite evident as she wound around him waiting for his praise.  He petted her nicely and carried the prize in to me.  "Nycto caught something, Mom!"  Oh, geez!  Would this cat ever learn to be a Bayou Cat or will she remain the spoiled diva of her early life?

Ms. Nycto's prize catch......a leaf!

  I have heard so much controversy over allowing cats to roam that it is not funny.  It amazes me that folks think that cats do indeed love being held captive inside the house.  They were born to roam, hunt and be free. I agree that if there is a danger of them being in traffic or some such thing, then protect them but if there is room for them to gad about a bit, let them have a bit of fun! Sure, if these two cats wish to come inside, they have the option but that option works both ways.  Their whims of being free to roam about the Bayou is granted whenever they desire.  And, yes, I have heard all of the whiny bits about how cats kill other critters but without that, think of the overrun of mice, rats, squirrels and even birds that would occur.  It is all about survival of the fittest.  Critters that can survive, do survive.  Critters that have not learned survival skills will fall prey to any larger animal...cats included.  Here on the Bayou, that thinning of critters is direly needed.  Food sources are far too many so rodents, themselves, are far too many.  If there were no check of procreation, the place would be overrun to the point that all would perish due to overcrowding and disease.  This happened to the raccoon population just a couple of years ago.  When the coyotes were "run" out of the area, the raccoon population exploded.  Many soon were ill with distemper that spread like wildfire throughout the entire area.  Not a day went by that we did not find several ill or already dead coons.  While cats cannot help in that situation, they can help keep the smaller rodents in check.  As for Ms. Put and Ms. Nycto?  They will have free run as long as they like!  Now if Ms. Nycto can only learn to hunt something besides leaves!  Well, maybe that won't be so bad come this fall.  Perhaps her diligent training can help me so I will not have to rake all the leaves!  Ms. Nycto, Leaf Huntress....at least it has a nice ring to it!

Fishing has just gone to the dogs!

  Hehe, I have to ponder where the saying that something has "gone to the dogs" originated.  I get the giggles just thinking about it!  I mean, imagine, "Fishing has just gone to the dogs!".  Does that not conjure up the most unusual image ever?  It does for me with my overactive imagination!  I can just see old Ms. Ez, the Bayou Dog, sitting on the pier with her fishing pole.  It would be a humorous sight but with her, probably not out of the range of reality.  She has been fishing with me since she was a few weeks old so can most likely use a pole with the best of them!  The saying, however, has nothing to do with fishing dogs. I used to have an uncle who would make the statement quite often.  It seems to have been a saying that was common at one point in time around here.  (The fishing part anyway.)  My uncle would mention that fishing was poor and invariable use the phrase about going to the dogs. It tickled my funny-bone back then and still does.

  Yesterday morning, however, the phrase popped into my head for an entirely different reason.  I was on the pier bright and early and noticed that something rather large had washed up on the shore toward the west.  I sat and stared at the object a bit before realizing just what it was.  When I did, I started giggling as, out of the blue, the phrase popped into my mind.  I turned to look at Ms. Ez and asked "Did you lose something, Old Girl?"  She responded with a tail-thumping wiggle. Across the way, what appeared to be a large doghouse had washed ashore.  A DOGHOUSE! Imagine the giggle-inducing sight that was! Why and how had the doghouse come to be in the water?  Had someone placed said house on a steep slope and it sort of roll down the hill into the Bay?  Had someone intentionally shoved said house overboard? Was a dog still inside the runaway house?  Oh, the questions I had!  Ms. Ez was no help whatsoever as she offered nary an answer.

  Back to the idiom of something "going to the dogs".  The statement means that something or someone is in a downward spiral due to some misfortune.  I sort of have to disagree with the connotation that the phrase evokes.  When you think about a dog's life (at least most dogs nowadays), they have it made!  Dogs used to be working animals.  They would earn their "keep".  These animals would be herders, protectors and would provide rodent extraction services.  Pets now have become "part of the family" instead of working members of a team.  They are pampered beyond belief.  This may or may not be good as most have a need to perform and if not given a chance to do so, cannot be at their full potential.  They become lazy and lose their instinctive traits.  Take Ms. Ez as example.  She should be a hunter.  Ha!  Yes, she loves to chase squirrels but if you give her the command to "Get the squirrel!", she immediately runs to the same hickory tree in the yard...squirrel or no squirrel!  To her, the command means to go sit at that certain tree and then turn to look at me for approval.  Her instinct to chase the rodents has gone awry!  Today, I caught her staring at four squirrels in the bird feeders which are her sole duty to protect.  Not happening! When I gave the command, she ran to "THE" tree and turned to look at me while the squirrels munched the sunflower seeds!  Oh, Ms. Ez, your hunting skills have gone to the dogs.

Watch your step!

  I don't know how many times I have been told to "Watch my step", "Watch where you put your feet" or "Keep your eye on the ground" in reference to being wary of snakes.  Not once...not once, however, was I warned to keep looking up so I would not get bit by one of those slithery rascals!  No!  I did not get bit! Thank goodness! But I did find one of my reptilian friends high above the ground.  

  I was out back checking the nonexistent peaches (most have been eaten by squirrels) when I heard a ruckus down near the magnolia tree. Hmm?  Either the blue jays had happened upon a hawk or owl and were letting the world know.  Those birds are great "watchdogs" for the rest of the birds.  If they see a potential predator in the area, a great cacophony is raised.  This is to let all birds in the immediate area know to keep a sharp eye on their nests and little ones.  I do not normally think blue jays are heroic critters but, in this instance, I have to admit that I sort of like them.  But back to the ruckus.  I slipped over to the tall oak tree and stared up into the branches.  I always love to photograph the hawks and owls.  They are both such majestic birds.  This time, however, I could find neither.  I stared and stared at the branches of the tree.  The blue jays were relentless in their calls so I knew that the danger was still near.  Hmmm?

  Then just a few feet above my head, I caught sight of a slight movement.  Uh, oh.  Yep, there coiled on a branch was a large chicken (rat) snake.  This sucker was about six or seven feet long!  Oh, my goodness!  No wonder the jays were going haywire!  A snake in the tree is a good reason for a bit of nervousness.  I watched the snake for a good while and was amazed at how adeptly it handled the tree limbs.  For having no arms or hands, that guy could climb!  

  To get to a higher limb, the snake merely stretched itself upward and then would slowly, ever so slowly, pull itself up.  Some of these limbs were a good two feet above the snake's head, yet, it made the climb look easy!  The snake's climbing abilities impressed me so much that I bid him good luck.  If the snake has the resolve to climb a tree, then he deserves a good meal.

  Encountering him made me think, though.  When I go out hiking, should I be looking up while watching for snakes?  This makes one wonder just how many critters go unnoticed by humans as we tromp around in their domain?

Mass Migration!

  Enough was enough!  With all of the activity in the little Frog Pond the water had become quite foul.  Since there is no input except for rainfall, it does not take long for the pond to become stagnant.  Add about a billion frogs and toads doing their thing and the pond needs a little help.  My job for today was to drain a bit of the water and add fresh. This is not a problem since I have an electric pump with a long drain hose. Once the pump was fitted in the bottom of the pond and the hose nicely dumping water under the plum and citrus trees, I was able to relax a bit.  It was then that I noticed the mass migration of tiny frogs.  They were leaving the pond and all headed down to the Bayou.  I thought that this was rather strange.  Why would the frogs lay their eggs in my tiny pond just to have the little ones make the trek all the way back to the Bayou. Why not just lay the eggs in the Bayou in the first place?  After noticing how tiny the frogs were, I made the assumption that perhaps they were safer in the little pond.  There are not a lot of predators slinking about the Frog Pond other than other frogs or perhaps a snake or two.  

  Still, that trek to the Bayou was treacherous.  I know that I must have inadvertently smashed a few under the soles of my moccasins but the real threat came from ants.  The poor little froggies had no idea that those sandy mounds were the home of some pretty ferocious predators that were just waiting to attack.  More than once, I had to reach down and help some little guys out of a dire predicament.  Had they stayed around the ant hill long, they would have been painfully killed.  Another threat came in the form of birds.  Once the blue jays discovered the mob of tiny froglets, the call went out for all birds to search for a free meal.  The little froglets had to scamper quickly to hide beneath the grass.  There, if they are smart, they will hide until dusk.  Perhaps under the cloak of darkness, they can safely finish their migration to the murky waters of the Bayou.

  One rather large frog refused to vacate the little Frog Pond as I was cleaning it. This frog sat eyeing my every move.  Perhaps this one is a permanent resident and has no inclination of heading back to the Bayou or creek.  If so, I am happy to have it here.  It is quite the lovely frog and will eat lots of bugs from the gardens.  It was still there by late afternoon when the pond was refilled.  The adult frog had not joined the mass migration of froglets.  Either it was ready to lay more eggs, smart or just plain lazy.  I am not sure which!

See ya later, Alligator!

   For the past few years, our crab traps have been robbed of their bait on almost a nightly basis.  At first, we blamed the otters.  These likable critters have the smarts to unhook most any latch that they encounter. We figured that the otters had taken a liking to our crab bait and found it an easy meal.  Not that I mind sharing a bit of bait with them but without bait, I would catch no crabs.  That made me unhappy indeed!  Then the blame moved on to the snapping turtles that seemed to find the crab traps a delightful perch on which to spend the day.  I admit that I was more prone to blame the snapping turtles since they are not so cute and comical.  They have a tendency to have a foul temper and do have strong jaws that can rip into the traps.  I had noticed that the bait doors were not simply unlatched they were removed!  Turtles...definitely turtles were damaging the traps and stealing the bait!  Then one morning as I sat watching the sunrise, the true culprit ventured under the pier.  An eight foot long alligator decided that the chicken legs that Mark used as bait the previous evening, smelled mighty fine. I watched as the gator slipped under the pier, chomped down on the trap mangling it and then removing the bait.  Chicken parts were floating everywhere making the gator extremely happy and making me extremely unhappy!  I apologized to the otters and turtles and started blaming the gators!  There was not a lot we could do about the gator stealing the bait as it actually would rip the wire.  The traps were more or less rendered unusable.

  This week, I noticed a few crabs crawling about under the pier.  Mark set about devising a new bait door for the traps.  It had to be tough enough for the gator to at least have some trouble breaking it yet simple enough to open so we could stuff the bait in the box without difficulty.  He pondered a bit and then headed off to the building supply place for parts.  This morning, he toted all six traps back to the pier.   He had rigged up a grand door for each trap using a piece of steel sheeting and some rods.  This should work!  Yep, now my traps may be able to capture a few crabs instead of sitting baitless under the pier.  

  We shall raid the freezer tomorrow in search of possible crab bait. Since crabs are not particularly nit-picky about their diet, it should be relatively easy to find enough chicken or fish to bait the traps.  Then we shall sit back and wait.  I will sit observing the gators as they attempt to filch their breakfast.  Hopefully, the steel plates will hold and nary a bait will be lost to the would-be robbers.  Hopefully, I will get enough crabs this summer to replenish the freezer.  See ya later, Alligator!  Go elsewhere for your breakfast!  This cafe is closed!  (I hope!)

Glossy Privet or just an Impostor?

  Down by the pier just on the edge of the property, a medium sized bush grows under an oak tree.  This shrub is known as Glossy Privet or Ligustrum Lucidum....I think...perhaps...I hope so anyway!  The shrub has been there as long as I can remember even before the Little Bayou House was built.  I remember this particular shrub simply because I was always fascinated by the thick heads of white blooms and their effect on certain folks.  I can remember Granddad telling me how a few visitors to his place (my grandparents lived on the Bayou long before I did) would start sneezing the moment they came in contact with the bush. Personally, I have never had that problem so I assume that allergies hit only certain folks.  I like the Privet Bush and all of its pollen-laden white flowers so it stays even though poor Mark is one of those folks who seem to be sneeze-prone when it is blooming. He understands and merely stays upwind of the bush.  

  I was looking at the list of invasive plants the other day and, lo and behold, my Glossy Privet was on that list!  I was aghast!  How can this shrub be invasive?  I had always imagined that to be considered "invasive" a plant needed to be able to spread with wild abandon!  My idea was that little sprouts would shoot up in the most inopportune places and soon take over an entire area.  This comes from the description of the most irritating of all "invasives" better known as Cogon Grass.  Now that junk is truly invasive as it is now the scourge of the South beating out the Kudzu Vine! (I have to admit...that is invasive!)  Anyway, like I said earlier, this shrub has been here long before I was even around which makes it as "old as the hills".  Not once have I seen a wee, little Privet showing its bright leaves about the hillside.  Why, I have even considered picking the berries to start a few more of the bushes but have never been able to beat the birds to them. As soon as the berries ripen, the birds devour them and obviously, after passing through the bird, not one of the seeds has sprouted.  I may have to try rooting some cuttings if I want more bushes.

  Now comes the kicker.  If this is true Glossy Privet and not some impostor, everyone might wish to grow them in their yards!  According to the WebMD site, Glossy Privet can be used as a remedy for any number of maladies from promoting hair growth to preventing certain cancers (by improving the immune system).  There are a number of good points about the use of Glossy Privet but, as far as studies go, only a few side effects with the number one being allergic reaction (like sneezing!).  To use the Glossy Privet for any remedy, I would need to get a positive identification (first and foremost!) and then beat the birds to the fruit!  It is the ripe berries that have all the good stuff in them that is helpful! So, now I need to find a botanist to identify my bush and perhaps it will become better liked by all of the inhabitants around here and not just me!  Why, my bush might just become high in demand!

The "Cat"astrophe!

  Ok, so I am definitely used to Bayou Cats and not "city-slicker" cats. Not that I have anything against sweet house kitties.  They are delightful but I am more accustomed to cats that can take care of themselves against all odds.  I am used to Ms. Put, the feisty, fickle feline that has resided at the Little Bayou House for the past seventeen years or so.   I am not used to Nycto, the new cat, with her posh ways.  Ms. Put is evidently not used to such a pampered cat either as she and Nycto do not seem to get along too well.  They keep their distance from each other and merely abide one another.  They are definitely NOT friends. 

Nycto on one of her peaceful days.

   Late this evening, I saw a black cat wandering about the hillside. There is nothing unusual about this as both of my cats are black.  Ms. Put is what is called a Tuxedo Cat with the elegant white collar and white paws while Nycto is solid black. Like I said, I did not think much about seeing a black cat slinking about the Bayou or at least not until I saw Ms. Put race across the yard and attack the critter.  Uh oh!  An all out cat fight was in the works!  I had better put a stop to this right now.  I hurried down the hill to fuss at the two cats.  As I neared the duo, one jumped to its feet and turned to stare at me.  Ummm..this was not Nycto. This was not Ms. Put.  This was a huge cat!  Alrighty then.  At that very moment, little Ms. Put pounced on the large, unknown cat!  She snarled and hissed and let the claws fly!  My little dynamo was tearing this thing to pieces!  The large mystery cat tore around the side of the yard behind the persimmon tree and Ms. Put collapsed on the sand beneath the old oak tree.  My kitty!  My poor little kitty!  I ran to check on her.  Whew!  I was relieved to find that she was ok..exhausted but ok.  She stood up and meowed.  Not a loud, menacing meow but rather a soft, cooing meow.  Hmmm?  That seemed odd as did the fact that she stood staring up.  

Tiny Ms. Put getting a well-deserved meal after fending off the huge, menacing stray cat.  

   I followed her gaze up the nearby pine tree to see Nycto high up in the tree.  She had obviously been attacked by the intruding cat and sought refuge in the tall tree.  Oh, no.  Now what?  That cat had no idea how to get back down out of the tree!  She was stuck!  And stuck on a limb about thirty feet up the tree!  Ms. Put had come to the rescue of the very cat that irritated her daily but how in the world was I to come to the rescue of Nycto now?  It was growing darker by the minute and the cat would not come down out of that tree!  I did the only thing that I knew might work.  I called to my son.  He has a way with critters especially cats.  After about an hour, he was able to coax Nycto down the tree.  It was not a pretty descent by any means but at least she came down on her own.  Now comes the problem of what to do about the accosting cat. Trying to corral two outdoor cats that are not congenial in one house overnight might not seem like a big deal but add one terrorizing cat on the outside of the house and it proves to be a predicament.  The snarling, hissing, howling and growling becomes incessant as two cats pace inside the house and one nasty, foul-tempered beast prowls about the yard.

Poor Nycto!  She became stranded in a tall pine tree after being attacked by a marauding stray cat.  Don't worry!  Michael rescued her and all is well now!

  This whole episode comes on the heels of a news story of a cat defending a little boy against an attack by a large dog.  Cats can, and will, take on any critter that they deem a threat.  Usually, the cat wins.  Ms. Put came to the aid of Nycto when she was attacked by the large, intruding cat.  What makes this amazing to me is Nycto is quite large compared to Ms. Put and the intruder was larger still.  Ms. Put is a tiny thing that weighs in about six pounds when she is at her optimum weight.  Nycto is a good nine pounds.  The intruder was nigh on twice the size of Ms. Put but she did not let that faze her one bit.  She stood her ground and fought. Ms. Put was also concerned about her (non) friend, Nycto, after the battle.  She is one tough, little cat!  She is my hero for the day!  Love this kitty!

Thank a snail!

  I have been known to sit for hours watching a critter as it moves about the Bayou.  I figure that we can all learn a thing or two about survival or just life in general by watching our animal neighbors.  Most of them have this survival thing down pat which is something most humans nowadays do not.  We have become so dependent on the comforts in our lives that if ever faced with a need to depend on our survival tactics, a good many of us would fail miserably.  Only a handful would know how to forage for food or even know what could be used as food.  Finding a suitable shelter would be totally out of the question.  In other words, a good many folks would succumb to the elements of nature.   All of this talk of survival, foraging and seeking shelter came about simply because I spied a snail.  Yep, a snail.  Now there is a grand example of survival if there ever was one!  A lowly snail could teach us all a thing or two.

   First, about that suitable shelter.  The Marsh Periwinkle (snail in question) carries its shelter about on its back like most other snails.  It is always ready to face any inclement weather conditions and even a lot of would be predators. The snail can even pull back into its shell to ride out a drought!  Now I am not saying that you should hike about with your house on your back but at least have enough foresight to check the weather.  If it is to turn for the worse, dress appropriately!  As for the food foraging, that snail has it together!  It usually feeds upon algae which is good since that seems to never be in short supply.  However, the Marsh Periwinkle has learned to farm!  Small grooves are cut in cord grass and filled with the snail's excrement.  Fungus that grows on the grass is fertilized by this and provides a ready source of meals for the periwinkle. Smart thinking for a mollusk with a wee, little brain!  A ready source of food, a sturdy shelter and protection from predators give the snail an advantage over most humans when it comes to survival in the wild. (As matter of fact, given a bit of water now and again, this same snail could probably survive in our cushy homes as well! Maybe not happily but it could survive.)

  But all this talk of immediate survival is not really what my point is.  The Marsh Periwinkle might just be able to help the entire world survive.  They seem to be highly sensitive to toxic agents.  This sensitivity has led them to be used as test subjects for toxicology studies.  These tests could possibly lead to cleaner water and marshes which would be a boon to all of us. Our lives are dependent on having clean water so this is a step in the right direction.  That said...the next time you see a snail, watch it for a while and think of all that the little critter does.  Then, thank it for being your friend for somewhere down the line, your very life may depend on that gastropod with the wee, little brain.

Sometimes change is good.

   I am not one that likes change when it comes to gardening.  It is my preference to stick to tried and true methods and I have a tendency to pay no heed to suggested improvements.  Still at times, things need to change.  For the past few years, I have fought rodents relentlessly to no avail. My gardens sat in ruins causing me great anguish. I could not compete with the underground tunneling of the masses of voles.  So, I changed methods.  I read all I could find on container gardening and the use of raised beds.  The raised beds interested me most as I do garden a good bit and would need many containers.  My one concern was that most raised beds would not inhibit the tunneling one bit. Most had no bottoms.  I needed beds that were literally "raised" as in raised off the ground.  Mark and I discussed the matter and he came to my rescue by building boxes to my specifications.  I wanted them certain sizes and depths.  These were made using untreated cedar fence boards.
  
  I was a bit dubious about trying the new method but I jumped in headlong and planted everything I could in the boxes.  Beans, potatoes, squash, peppers and radishes all had new homes in the raised garden boxes.  At first, it seemed as if the plants were slow in taking to their new beds.  I was persistent, though, and tended them dutifully.  Soon, things were up and running!  The potatoes especially seem to have decided that this was perfect.  Mark had made the sides eighteen inches high and within just a few weeks, he had to add six more inches.  I have now added enough compost to fill the twenty-four inch deep boxes and the potato plants just keep growing.  Back on the farm, Pop used to "hill" his potato plants quite deeply.  He always said to grow good potatoes, you had to keep piling the dirt around them.  So, I do!  I sure hope this works and those potatoes are doing something beside growing stalks and leaves!

  Having the gardens like this has been a breeze.  So far, weeding has been nil, fertilizing much easier and, best of all, NO VOLE PROBLEM! With the gardens raised a good foot off the ground, the voles have to do a bit of climbing to reach the plants.  Our two cats now have the advantage of a clear view of the rodents as they come out of their subterranean abodes. I am already planning a good many more such gardens to be used for the fall and winter garden.  The boxes are just the right size to cover with some reclaimed windows that I have been saving for years.  This should be just the protection needed for any frosty nights come this next winter!  Oh, I love this type gardening!  Yeah, I admit it...sometimes change is good.

Cherubs and Nutria Rats

  There are certain items that I would never dream of acquiring and placing in the gardens here on the Bayou. They just don't fit in with the whole scheme of things.  Usually, I deem these things to be either too fancy or too frivolous to be part of the place.  Then there are things that acquire the yard instead of the other way around.  These items suddenly appear and never leave.  One of those such items sits in among the roses. It has been there ever since it showed up at the doorstep years ago. Thanks to Hurricane Katrina, I came in possession of a small statue of cherubs.  Just the thing that does not belong in a rustic setting of fish nets, crab pots and anchors.  Cherubs with their delicate wings and sweet smiles have a hard time coexisting with nutria rats, alligators and otters.  It just doesn't happen.  Well, yeah, these cherubs do.  They have a great deal to do with at least nutria rats.

  Katrina's flood waters dumped a huge amount of debris in our yard.  I found the cherub statue under a mountain of boards, marsh grass and boat parts.  Not knowing what it was, I pulled it from beneath the pile. Ahh, cherubs.  Hmmm, just what I needed.  I stuck the thing aside thinking that someone might adore it and take it home.  It didn't happen.  The cherubs stayed and soon became a part of the garden.  Now, I have sort of become attached to the cutesy little thing.  Not that I would ever want another and would definitely never purchase such a thing but still this thing is part of the place now.  It sits under a rose bush and looks right at home.  

  When I pulled the statue from the debris pile, I saw a slight movement in the hole left behind in the debris pile.  At first, I was startled thinking it might have been a large cottonmouth moccasin but then my heart melted a bit.  Under all of that trash was a tiny, infant nutria rat.  It looked at me with sad eyes.  The poor little thing had been buried alive and was starving.  Now any other day, I might have thought, "Good riddance" as these things wreak havoc on the marshes but seeing any life after such devastation was amazing.  I reached down and picked up the little rascal. As much as it could, the little thing seemed appreciative.  Now what? What was I to do with a baby nutria rat especially when I did not even have time to care for myself.  I took it back to the Bayou and released it.  It would have to fend for itself the best it could.  It was not long afterwards that I heard it cry.  The cries were weak but persistent. All night, I could hear the sad cries of the little one and that tugged at the heartstrings a bit. By morning, I was having a major guilt trip about setting the little tyke out on its own and went down to see if I could find it.  I did and to my surprise, it had reunited with its mother.  At least part of the family was back together again.  

  Now when I see the cherubs in the garden, I think about that little nutria and how it survived against all odds.  The statue is sort of a symbol of endurance.  It will stay in the garden for as long as I have a say about it. Like I said, I am not a fan of this sort of thing but, hey, it has a story. Anything that has a good story behind it makes for good yard art!  Right?

  

Do they.....or not?

  My son sent me two plants as a Mother's Day gift.  He said that perhaps they would help with the bug problem here on the Bayou. They arrived at the Little Bayou House well-packed in a large box with lots of the Styrofoam peanuts.  As soon as I opened the box, I knew that something smelly was underneath all of those annoying little things!  I carefully pushed them aside to reveal two very pretty plants.  Oooh!  Plants!  My son knows that I love plants of any kind and especially love ones that have some use.  The tag said that these were Citrosa or the "Mosquito Fighter" plants.  Alrighty, then!  This could prove to be very useful indeed! Living on the Bayou, we have our share of those varmints!

  I placed my plants in the window to await their transplanting into larger pots.  I figured that I needed them to get as large as possible if they were going to help dispel the plethora of pests.  They looked right pretty sitting there so even if they did no more than that, I was happy.  Plus, that smell started to grow on me.  I soon became to like the citronella aroma.  Not bad...not bad at all!  In fact, it was a rather nice change over the doggy smell of Ms. Ez!

  I pondered over just how and where to plant the Citrosas to help them do their best.  In researching them, I found a disclaimer.  Citrosa does NOT repel mosquitoes or any other bugs!  WHAT?  That is hogwash, I thought!  Surely these things must repel something!  The article said "Buyer Beware" and went on to claim that studies show that the mosquito repellent claim was not true. Then how can they be marketed as such?  The article went on to say that buyer should crush a leaf or two, rub it on exposed skin and try it.  If after a few hours no rash has appeared and no mosquitoes have bitten, then, by all means, use it!  What?  Rash?  Did I just read that this could cause a rash?  Yep.  That is what the article stated.  This could cause a rash in those that have allergies.  Again, hogwash!  A lot of plants cause rashes especially in folks with allergies.  So, back to square one.  Does this plant repel mosquitoes or not?  Nowhere could I find a positive answer.  I suppose that it is one of those things that may work for some folks and not others. Whatever!  I am going into this with full confidence that the plants that my son sent, will work!  I will be mosquito-free!  On the other hand, so what.  If they don't do all that is touted, I still have pretty plants and my son still cared enough to think of his mom and I am still blessed to have such a thoughtful family.  Life is good.....even if it is not mosquito-free!  (At least it is doggy-odor free!)

Almost too well hidden!

  Camouflage is a much needed trait among critters in the wild.  It is necessary especially among the very young.  While just babes, critters have to be able to go unseen to prevent becoming a meal for a larger critter.  It is a way of life which we humans sometimes forget.  Our young are cared for while they are tiny and not left out to fend for themselves.  (It is a good thing it is this way as I know even a lot of adults that would not fare so well if left in the wild. I cannot imagine a wee human being able to fetch food or fend off predators!)  But in the wild, a lot of critters do just that.  Mom and Dad are not around to see to the raising of their offspring. Worse, yet, is the fact that sometimes Mom and Dad become predators to their own young!  This camouflage is a grand thing indeed!  It not only hides critters from predators but also gives them the edge on catching their own prey.  When tiny, every mouthful becomes quite precious so having the ability to blend in with one's environment once again is a necessity.  

  This afternoon, though, that same helpful camouflage almost became a critter's undoing!  I was in the garden checking the progress of the tomato plants.  Not once did I survey the ground before taking a step.  Most of us do not.  Perhaps we should.  Just how many critters are literally underfoot?  I flicked a worm off the tomato plant and suddenly a movement caught my eye.  It was the slightest of movements and I wondered if perhaps I had not seen it at all.  I stared at the ground. Hmmm?  Something was there, I know!  It had to be!  Sure enough at that moment, a tiny toad took another hop.  That thing was no bigger than a minute!  It was surely smaller than a pea!  It was camouflaged well, though, perhaps too well!  I almost squished it flat!  I got down on my hands and knees to examine further and found dozens of tiny toads hopping about the garden!  The Frog Pond obviously has been a busy place!

  The coloration of the tiny toad was so in tune with the dirt that even after I saw it, my eyes would not stay focused.  I took several photographs and then had difficulty seeing the toad in the pictures!  I am glad that the tiny toad is in the garden.  There, it should find lots to eat and should be a huge help to me.  I say "good riddance" to the insects that it eats! 

Peace and Quiet!

  Ahh, yes!  The luxury of living on the Bayou!  I have had several folks recently comment on the peacefulness of the area.  "We love the peace and quiet!" they remarked.  I am assuming that this comes from the fact that they were visiting during the light of day.  At night, it is a different story.  Nighttime is far from quiet come early spring through late fall.  If you desire quiet nights, you better visit during the dead of winter.  I tried to make this point to them but they were having no part of my explanation.  "It cannot be that loud!  I would love to hear crickets and frogs!"  Little do they know...little do they know.

  Last night, the windows were flung wide open.  The cool air settled in the house as a welcome guest.  At first, the whispery soft crickets started their chirping.  This was nice.  Their sound has a calming effect.  Then the racket began.  Frogs and toads had invaded the Frog Pond once again and started their nightly serenade.  What started as a handful of each soon multiplied into hundreds if not thousands of the critters making sweet love songs to attract a potential spouse.  Now I believe that every frog and toad in the entire state has moved into the backyard!   At just about midnight, the ruckus was so loud that I was brought out from a deep sleep. I could not help but rise from bed to record the songs.  At times it was almost deafening!  And to think, this was all recorded from inside the house!  Can you imagine being outside during this cacophony?

  Regardless of the noise going on outside my window, I headed back to bed.  I laid there listening to the calls and thought about the "peace and quiet" of the Bayou.  Yep, poor delusional folks.  They have no idea just how noisy a Bayou can be!  Turn up your volume (and to get the full effect, turn it up all the way!) and take a listen to this short video.  (Sorry, it is only black but, hey, it was nighttime and frogs don't wear headlights!)