The Joke Was On Me!

  With all of the warm weather we have had lately, birds are all starting to nest.  This is early...far too early...as the little ones will have to endure a bit of cold weather if hatched.  Still, it has happened before and it all turned out fine.  Mother Nature has this matter under control without interference from us.  Still, I fret and worry about things like this simply because I have grown attached to the critters of the Bayou and surrounding swamp.  These are my friends!  

  Once again, my hike around the property took me along the shoreline back to the depths of the swamp.  A drizzly rain made it a bit miserable but it was a lot better out than going stir-crazy inside.  There are several old oak trees near or even in the marsh that have massive limbs that dip down into the mud.  This creates sort of a "secret room" that many critters use to their advantage.  The overhang of limbs can be a place of protection and the mudflats beneath supply a quick source of food.  On my strolls, it is my habit to take a quick peek into these "rooms".  There is always something new there.  A raccoon may be feasting on the fiddler crabs, a young heron may be stalking the mudflats or a screech owl may be whiling away the daytime hours on one of the limbs.  These are all points of interest to someone keeping a watchful eye on the Bayou. 

Definitely NOT a Clapper Rail egg!  

  This morning, I was taken aback by the sight of an egg plopped right in the middle of the "room" beneath the oak.  Surely, that was not an egg!  I pushed a bit further under the branches only to realize that, yes, it was definitely an egg.  Judging by the size and by the color, it appeared to be the clapper rail's egg.  The egg was a buff color with darker blotches and a bit smaller than a hen's egg.  I did have reservations about that call since this egg seemed to be a tad yellow but that was the nearest I could think at the moment.  Finding the egg caused great concern.  Had the rail already made a nest, laid an egg and had that egg stolen?  Had she not created the nesting site but had the urge to lay that egg already and just abandoned it?  Was I imagining things?  Ok, curiosity got the best of me.  Since there was no way that this egg could hatch in the cold mud and there was no bird in sight, I pushed further under the old oak.  Mud sucked at my shoes and a stench of good, old Bayou mud wafted upward with each step.  Yes, indeed, I was crazy for even attempting this jaunt but the "Mystery of the Egg" was just too much!

  After traipsing into the sloppy mud all-the-while clinging to the limbs above and hoping that a cottonmouth was not in the vicinity, I got my answer.  I felt a tad foolish.  When I reached down for the egg, it dawned on me that this thing did not "feel" right.  Yup!  I had been duped.  The egg was a plastic egg that had obviously been washed in with the tide.  The egg was old but still intact.  The color was faded, the blotches were stains and the inside was filled with mud!  Some day, I will learn to leave well enough alone. Now...let me go see if I can de-mud my shoes!