Some Things Are Never Explained

   Now that I am regaining the freedom to roam the Bayou and surrounding areas, I had to go back and check the creek bed.  I have missed the magic of the swamp.  The critters, the mosses, the huge palmettos and tangle of vines makes the creek bed an enchanting spot.  One fully expects some mystical creatures to be lurking in the shadows.  A fleeting glimpse of something hastily moving across the sun-dappled ground or the soft whispers of wings in the treetops add to the feeling that you are not alone.  This, my friends, is a favorite spot.  One where the imagination is free to roam where it may and where it is not hindered by the naysayers of the world.

  While I was crossing the small creek, I noticed one moss-covered stump that seemed to be ancient.  A tree had obviously been cut here, at some time.  This, I found strange as not one tree this far in the creek has ever been felled by saws since I came to live on the Bayou.  Plenty have fallen due to hurricanes but no one has ever cut a tree in probably some fifty or sixty years and, yet, the stump remains intact.   I pondered the age of the tree remains and who had felled it.  Years and years ago, Pop had told me of a sawmill business that had been on this land before Grandpa purchased it.  That was nigh on a hundred years ago.  Could this stump have lasted that long?  Surely not but...if not, who had cut the tree?  And why cut one in the creek if not for such a thing as a sawmill?  This will most likely remain as one of the mysteries of the Bayou. For now, however, I will just be pleased with my find of yet another mossy area.