Quietness

   After a pretty much sleepless night due to the foster kitten, my day started at a little before 4am.  The kitten wanted breakfast and I wanted a cup of coffee.  First things first, though.  The kitten was fed and then, coffee in hand, I headed to the pier.  I had to escape even if for a few moments.  The water brings tranquility.  Once on the pier, it was just as it should be...quiet and still.  Only a few birds were chirping as they awoke and a pair of coons waddled in the marsh making sloshing sounds.  All else was quiet.  

  It is funny how being on the pier puts all things in perspective.  There are no interruptions...no distractions...just the cool breeze and a few clouds.  Later, these would develop into a thunderstorm but, for now, they were just interesting decorations in the sky.   I felt refreshed.  Bayou Therapy...always works.  Time to face the day.

  

Father Knows Best

  I have taken the notion that physical therapy should be done outdoors when the weather permits.  Not only are you exercising those muscles but you are breathing fresh air and have the added bonus of watching the wildlife.  That said, I take my little weights out to the garden to indulge in the act of healing.  This is perhaps as "holistic" healing as it gets.  The body, mind, spirit and emotions can become in perfect balance within the confines of the Small Gardens.  I am a firm believer that it takes all of these to come together before true healing can be obtained.  Besides, I would much rather be outside even if it involves therapy.

  This morning before beginning the routine, I put out a bit of bird seed for my fine feathered friends.  It only took a few moments before a beautiful male cardinal alighted on the garden bench holding seed.  Ahh, my sweet friend has come to visit!  Then, another cardinal came to eat.  My first thought was that this was the male's ladylove but, on closer inspection, I realized that this was a juvenile bird.  Daddy Cardinal was teaching his offspring where to find food.  The brightly colored male did not feed the youngster but made a big fuss over picking seeds from the plank.  The youngster sat cheeping and fluttering its wings but to no avail.  Father knew best.  Let the youngster learn to eat by itself.  Finally. the little one gave up hope of being fed and started eating on its own.

  Seeing this interaction brought smiles.  Not only was the father bird teaching his offspring where to find food but he felt safe enough to bring his little one to the feeder.  From my vantage point of 6 feet away, I was delighted to view the birds and felt honored that I was trusted.  This, my friends, added to that emotional care...now if only the physical therapy was that easy.

  As a little note here, juvenile cardinals greatly resemble the females and it is somewhat difficult to distinguish which is which.  The easiest method is to check the bill.  A female has the bright red "cardinal" bill whereas a juvenile has a grayish or almost black bill.   

Good For the Body, Mind and Spirit

  In the late afternoon, the sun throws some pretty interesting shadows about the hillside overlooking the Bayou.  While the marsh and waters usually stay pretty bright, the heavy oak trees and tall pines start casting shadows as early as mid afternoon.  By the time the sun starts to set in the west, the woods on that side of our place pretty much blocks any light.  I am happy with it actually.  Otherwise, I would continue the chores until much later and, as an old lady, I do not need to be pushing it that much. So, the work that starts before 7 am, usually ends by 3 pm.  That is enough for me.  The yard work, gardening and shed cleaning is taking a toll on this old body.

  This afternoon after quitting for the day, I noticed the shadows on the yard.  Even though I was exhausted, I had to take a peek.  Well, this time the peek was merely through the window on the east side of the house.  It only took that one peek to make me fully appreciate where I live.  It is a good feeling to look out over the water whenever the whim strikes me.

  It is not just me that feels the power of the water.  Scientists have proven that those who can hear or view water on a daily basis are more relaxed and more creative.  It seems that watching and hearing waves puts our brains in almost a hypnotic state.  Being near water of any kind can lower stress levels and help with our mental well being.  Well, I could have told them that!  This effect is what I have long called "Bayou Therapy" and it has powerful soothing properties to all who come to seek it.  Trouble minds can be settled merely by sitting and staring out over the Bayou.  Take a hike near the marsh edge and down to where the creek empties into the Bayou and all sorts of magic can happen.  My long-held beliefs are now scientifically proven.  Bayou Magic!  Bayou Therapy...it is good for the troubled spirit.

Purple Mornings

  Often, I speak of the Magic of the Bayou.  To me, it is a very magical place.  There is an inexplicable serenity that engulfs you as soon as you step foot in certain spots.  This is most evident at dawn and just before nightfall.  It is as if the very essence of the place enters the soul and proclaims that strife should be lifted.  The mind becomes calm, the body relaxed and all seems right with the world.  

  Due to things beyond my control, the night had been sleepless other than short "cat-naps" caught in between a billion thoughts.  The mind felt cluttered even though I had a "conference" with the Black Racer yesterday.  I have found that many times pouring your troubles out to some critter really helps. The conversation with the snake did momentarily but, then, nightfall with hours to think and fret.  Come daybreak, an odd purple color tinted the window curtains on the east side of the living room.  This was not like other sunrises that beamed dark red.  Something was different and that difference called to me.  As soon as I stepped out the door, I was slammed by the beauty wisping about the hillside.  A light fog had laid in across the marsh overnight and the sun coming up over the pines tinted most of the yard purple!  Ok, so this was unusual but REALLY magical!  The Magic of the Bayou was in full force this morning!  Who would imagine a PURPLE yard??  

  Wandering about the hillside made me completely forget the unrest of the night.  My peace had returned!  All was good.  The Bayou and its mystical, magical ways calmed the anxiety and steadied the nerves. With that, I headed back to the meeting place of the Black Racer.  I wanted to thank the snake for being such a good friend.  Ahh, yes...bayou therapy is a grand thing.

Good for the soul...

  I was up all last night but not because I wanted to be.  Circumstances demanded that sleep was not to be had so it only seemed natural to wander to the pier early in the morn.  That is where I find solace in things out of my control.  That is where I find the peace that settles deep within the soul.  That is where my cares leave with the darkness as the sun brightens the eastern sky.  That is my little piece of paradise. This morning, all of that inner peace was needing replenishing and the Bayou did not fail me.  The bit of sunrise therapy worked wonders on the emotions and allowed me to face the day undaunted.  

  It has often been said that there is one place and one time that belongs to each person.  Obviously, I am a very old soul that roams the inner parts of the Bayou.  It draws me as does any other swamp.  I belong there.  The mystical, magical air of the Bayou is all it takes.  Tonight, I shall rest easy knowing all is well and I have done my best.  

More than one way....

  Back in the day, Pop would use some rather comical phrases when explaining something.  One that sticks out as quite odd is "There is more than one way to skin a cat."  I could never figure this one as Pop never skinned a cat in the first place so how in the world would he know more than one way.  Why not "More than one way to skin a hog....or deer....or steer....or rabbit...or squirrel...or even a frog"?  Those he skinned...we all did as part of work on the farm but skinning a cat...nope.  Never wanted to do that.  Cats were valuable workers on the farm and we could not afford to lose one.  So, I figure Pop must have heard this phrase as a kid and it stuck....just like me as the phrase pops out of my mouth as often as not.

  This afternoon, my friend came to the Bayou for a bit of "fishing therapy".  That is something that is good for what ails you.  (Another of Pop's favorite idioms.  He was good at throwing them out there when needed.)  My friend and I headed to the pier after doing some baking. After tossing out several lines, we sat back to have a bit of conversation.  It was not long before she got a nibble or what she refers to as a "tink".  "A tink", she explained to me, "is not a full bite but just an aggravating nibble."  She and the tinker played a game of cat and mouse for a while before she reared back and got the fellow.  "Aha!  I got you now, you little tinker mug!"  (So, now the fish graduated from being a tinker to being a tinker mug!)  Darlene played her fish well and brought up a stingray.  This is where that "more than one way" came into play.  She had not hooked her fish in the normal way via the mouth.  Somehow, she had snagged the fish in the pectoral fin that runs down along the edge of the fish.  The hook was nowhere near the mouth!  I guess there really is more than one way to skin a cat...catch a stingray!

  Once we unhooked the stingray, I noticed something poking out of its mouth.  Aww, poor thing!  That stingray had already been hooked before Darlene snagged it.  The fish had a hook embedded deep down in its gut from some previous fisherman.  There was no way that I could retrieve the hook without doing major damage to the fish so I just scooted him back into the water.  I sure hope the other fisherman had used the same kind of hooks that we use. We use hooks that rust to pieces in a matter of days so that if something like this happens, the fish does not suffer long.  Poor stingray!

Twice the Therapy

  Sometimes folks come to the Bayou to escape the hassles of the "outside" world.  When things get a bit hectic or stressful, they can escape to the relative peacefulness of the Bayou and leave the mess behind. Most want to sit on the pier and cast a line regardless of whether the fish are biting.  I do not mind as I fully understand.  The Bayou is my little bit of paradise even if there are those who disagree.  Sure, the place may seem a bit rough around the edges and not at all "livable" to those not accustomed to this life but that, in itself, suits me fine, as well.  It sort of weeds out those who do not need to be here.  The life isn't for everybody and I will be the first to say it is not.  It is perfect for me, though.  I love it here...rough edges and all.

  Today, a friend was in need of a little Bayou Therapy.  She has been having a rough month and was not feeling too well.  She was stressed, exhausted and just needing some good old peace.  As she walked down the pier, she said she could just feel things being lifted from her.  We chatted a bit, fished a bit and then Mr. PJ worked his magic.  The old dog must have somehow felt that she needed a bit of attention.  He rose, ambled over to Darlene and lifted his head.  She started petting him and cooing to him.  Another stress instantly left her.  Come to find out, she had been missing the two dogs that were with her for the past few years.  Her daughter moved out of state and took the dogs with her.  Mr. PJ was just what Darlene needed.  

  Not only did the Bayou work its magic but Mr. PJ worked his as well.  After catching a few fish, loving on the old dog and then having a fish dinner cooked up for her, Darlene left the Bayou in much better spirits.  She promised to come back for a second therapy session this weekend and I am sure that Mr. PJ will be so willing to apply a bit of his charm to go along with that of the Bayou.  Nice!

A Little "Bayou Therapy"

  A good friend of mine has had a tough ride these past few months.  I hated it for her but had no idea of how to help.  Words never seemed to be the right ones and never enough.  All I could do was offer my time to listen and to care.  We all need someone just to be there whether a single word is said or not.  

  Early this morning as I was out watering the garden, I heard a familiar voice.  My friend wandered around to the back of the house.  She knows me well enough to come hunting for me if I do not answer the door.  When she saw me, she said "I need a little "Bayou Therapy". Enough said.  I knew exactly what she meant.  She needed a bit of the serenity that can always be found here.  I turned off the water faucet and we headed to the pier.  It is easy to find placidity when on the water.  It sounds strange to say but sometimes being on the water can be the perfect shelter from an inner storm.  I knew it...she knew it.  

  At first, we just sat.  Nothing needed to be said.  Then after a bit, we talked.  Then, we fished.  As soon as the first trout was landed, her spirits lifted and she began to enjoy herself.  The Bayou was working its magic.  Peace was returning, troubles disappearing.  By the end of her visit, she went home in much better spirits, I had enjoyed my morning and she toted home a lovely bag of cleaned fish.  All in all, I would say that the Bayou Therapy worked once again.