Dead Fish Don't Swim Fast!

   Fishing is not only a pleasant pastime here on the Bayou, it is also a way to put a meal on the table.  Just today, I baked a nice redfish and made some garlic shrimp alfredo.  Paired with broccoli and crowder peas, things just don't get much better.  Both the fish and shrimp were fresh caught by Mark just yesterday making the meal, not only healthy, but also almost free!  It is times like this that I love living right where I do.

  Earlier, I had been cutting back the Boysenberry vines when I heard a loud screaming.  Three ospreys were busying themselves with catching mullet in the shallows of the Bayou.  One stayed put on a limb of a pine while the other two hunted.  This made it clear that the single one was the offspring that had just fledged.  The parent birds were trying to entice their youngster to try diving for a mullet but it was having no part of that exercise.  Instead, the young bird screamed for a free meal and, soon, mom evidently felt sorry for the lug of a kid and alit in the same tree with a large mullet.  She was not giving in too rapidly however as she made the kiddo work for its meal.  Just as the younger bird would attempt to grab the fish, she would fly to a nearby tree.  Kiddo followed and again tried to snatch the mullet.  Nope! she flew back to the original pine and waited.  After a moment, her offspring came begging.  This went on for several minutes before she actually "dropped" the mullet and the younger one had to fly down after it!  Easy catch!  Dead fish don't swim very fast!  The youngster had its prey and felt mighty proud of itself!  After a squeal of delight, it set to work devouring its breakfast.  In the meantime, Mom and Dad headed out to the Bay to catch their own meals leaving the kiddo on his own.

  The birds don't have the option that we do of stockpiling foodstuffs for when times are bleak.  Two of our freezers are filled to the brim with enough fish, shrimp and crabs to last through hard times.  Add that to the one freezer filled with vegetables and the thousand or so jars of fruit and veggies on the pantry shelves and we shall not go hungry.  The ospreys have to work daily for their meals so it is highly important that their offspring learn the tricks of the trade as soon as they fledge.  Then...they are on their own. It is a matter of survival...

The Lovely Mimosa Syrup!

   Here lately, it has become a great interest of mine to find uses for whatever is on the place.  It is not of my nature to run to the store for things.  In fact, I do not go at all if what I need can be found, grown, repurposed or caught (fish, crabs and shrimp).  While most folks would consider this a "hard" way of doing things, it suits my needs perfectly so it has become a way of life.  The shelves are well stocked if not overstocked with jars of fruits, vegetables, nuts, juices and medicines.  Yep, I have turned to herbal remedies for a lot of ailments.  Doctors' visits still come into play if needed and for checkups but, if it is something I can fix with an elixir, tisane, balm or tincture, so be it.

  Now comes the surprising fact.  There are so many plants, shrubs and trees that fall into the category of healing plants that my "medicine cabinet", also known as a pantry shelf, seems to be filling quickly with the wondrous concoctions of days past.  Sometimes, folklore is more of a science than pure legend.  More than once, these "potions" saved me from illnesses that were brought to the Little Bayou House by unthinking people.  Just last month, after being exposed three different times, crape myrtle tisane mixed with sage and rosemary helped me to ward off a bad respiratory illness.  Both Mark and Son were ill and my sweet sister-in-law had the same virus.  My tisane came to the rescue!

  Now, a new "brew" has been added to the shelf!  Six half pints of the loveliest syrup was stirred up from an unlikely source.  Mimosa!  Albizia julibrissin!  Yep, that lovely, pink silk tree that grows so rampantly in the South has quite the healing properties.  I have been wanting to try this for ages but the trees bloom at the same time that the garden produces so my time was spent canning foodstuffs and the blooms did their happy thing of making the yard beautiful and delightfully aromatic.  Yesterday, however, Son was helping me pick plums when I mentioned how I wish I had time to pick the mimosa blooms.  He never questioned my motives but merely ambled down the hill and reached up to the high limbs.  "Are these good?"  Yay!  I picked and picked the fluffy blooms until I had a half of bucket full.  While he would hold down the limbs and I would pick, I started telling him about my plans.  He smiled and just nodded.  He knows his mom is weird but he also knows that the remedies work. 

  The blooms were "debugged" (think spiders...each carefully returned to their tree), washed and then put in a saucepan of water.  After simmering, the blooms were carefully removed and sugar (and a wee bit of lemon juice) added.  The simmering continued until a nice, syrupy blend was created.  This was canned and set to seal.  My beautiful syrup will be ready when needed!  (No, I do not store my canned goods in the window but it was the best way to capture the gorgeous color and clarity of the syrup!) 

  It feels good to be learning what Mother Nature has to offer even at this late in the game for me.  My kiddos keep telling me to learn new things but, in this case, I think I am learning old things...just new to me.  

Little Blooms of Hope

   After the snow and icy weather last month, February has come in as if to say "Hey!  I am spring!  All you plants need to perk up and look alive!"  Well, a lot of the plants and trees are like "Really now?  We are hurting and you want us to be perky?"  So...most continue to look dismally harmed.  The citrus trees really took a beating.  There is not much of a way to protect 20 to 30 ft tall trees and, yes, the grapefruit trees are that tall.  The orange trees are around 10 ft tall but were not "coverable" either. The cold was a bit much for all of the trees and the damage is showing in the form of brown and dropped leaves.  It is saddening that such beauty that the snow brought to the Bayou has dealt a blow on what is here year round. 

  As I wandered the hillside surveying the damaged trees, my heart gave a little leap of happiness seeing a tiny cluster of blooms.  Not everything had perished!  No, not citrus blooms (thankfully) but rather the paperwhite narcissus.  These cold hardy plants were not daunted at all by the 14 degree temperatures and have now brought hope back to the gardens.  I know it is beyond most folks thinking that I can find immense joy in the simple bloom of a lily that is a annual occurrence but, to my way of thinking, any bit of beauty means there is hope that things will soon be back to normal.  Paperwhites are said to represent the coming of spring so maybe soon things will not seem so grim.

  The cleanup of damaged gardens is in full swing as is the cleanup of fallen leaves.  The leaves will be ground and returned to the gardens as mulch.  Hopefully, what was seen as damage can help with the regrowth.  Also, hopefully, this bout of springlike weather will not encourage the off-season blooming that often happens after ice storms.  I would have preferred that February had stayed chilly and let things have a dormant stage before pushing them into a premature revival state.  Slow down, plants.  Take your time.  Let the healing be the number one priority.

And the Snow Came....

  Foul weather was predicted to swing all the way down to the Coast and it came with a vengeance.  The brutal cold brought snow which is something we rarely ever see this far south.  Sure, we may have experienced a few flurries now and again but a full-blown "blizzard" is unheard of around here.  (And I am using the term blizzard very loosely here.)  Snow!  We got snow!  Not just flurries or a few flakes...not just sleet...SNOW!  In fact, Mark measured several places in the yard and the ruler measured between 6 and 7 inches and this was before the stuff stopped falling from the sky.

  While this is surely a momentous event for South Mississippi and most folks are elated, I am not feeling the pure bliss.  Yes, it is beautiful to see the snow-covered yard, the flake-decorated trees and the poofy white stuff drifting gently from the sky, I am more practical.  I see my garden covered to the tips of the plants.  Cabbages, cauliflower, broccoli and carrots are completely doused in an icy blanket.  I hope they make it.  Most planters say these are cold-hardy down to 18 degrees.  Currently, we are sitting at 12 degrees.  Hopefully, the plants will not realize this difference in temperature...hopefully. 

  Also, being bit more pragmatic than I should be, I went around hanging double curtains on windows and doorways and placing "draft-dodgers" at the door treads.  Days before the cold arrived, Mark cut, Son split and I stacked more firewood than we usually use all winter.  I am still cold.  My northern friends would be laughing at my efforts but, as I said, this an "exception to the rule" of "We do not get winter here."  We got winter....and the snow came.  So...northern friends....please take back your weather.  It is uncomfortable!

The Bayou Provides

   While life on a bayou is probably not for everyone, it seems to be perfect for me.  Most would rather be highly involved with their social lives and the hubbub that comes with it.  Again...not me.  I prefer the solitude that I can find here even to the point that I let the land and bayou provide for most of my needs.  While the garden is in a lull due to a recent drought, the water is teeming with "foodstuffs".  That is where I am spending the bulk of my time...on the pier.  Mullet, drumfish, redfish, trout, flounders and crabs are all within reach and shrimp!...yes, shrimp are plentiful this year!  A massive influx of shrimp this far from the salty Gulf is rare so all of the locals are taking full advantage of the occurrence!  We are throwing the net just about every waking hour and are filling freezers for future use.  Free food is always good.

  A thought bleeped through the brain yesterday as I was hauling in yet another netful of shrimp.  What in the world is this old lady with a bad heart doing down here on the pier?  I think I am pushing my strength to the limits this summer.  Just last week, after a great checkup with my doctor, I got the orders to "Just keep doing whatever you are doing as it seems to be paying off in great ways with your health."  I wonder if Doc knows that I am spending hours at a time throwing a net from the pier?  Still...I shall follow Doc's orders and keep doing what I am doing.  If nothing else, I shall eat good!  *Just a note here...yes, that is my gloved hand holding the shrimp to show the size.  I normally do not wear gloves but after throwing the net close to a hundred times each day, my hands were taking a beating.  Bleeding fingers are not a good thing. The gloves have come into use!

A Gift Along The Garden Path

   As I age, I find that my perspective on a lot of things has changed.  Some of that perspective has changed for the better and...well...some just has changed.  A lot of folks would be quick to say that those particular changes are not to "their" liking.  Does that bother me?  Not one iota as these last years on this old world are mine to be filled however I choose.  My perspective on life in general is no one else's business so I shall go about my day as I please.  One of the things that brings a wee bit of joy is to wander the garden paths just as the morning sun is peeking over the pines on the far side of the Bayou.  As that light filters through the broad oaks with their dense leaves, tiny parts of my world are spotlighted.  Perhaps without those pinpoints of light, my poor, old eyes would never see the miniscule features along the way.  In my way of thinking, those morning "dots" are gifts for me alone.  

  This morning's special gift was a common Gulf Fritillary Butterfly.  Masses of these come each fall for a visit so I have seen thousands upon thousands of the same type.  This is not some rare butterfly nor is it the most interesting but, early this morning, it was incredibly special.  I had just climbed the tiered steps up from the pier into the Small Gardens, when a single beam of light highlighted the butterfly.  The insect was still wet from the overnight rains.  It obviously had been caught off-guard of the coming storm as it chose a roosting spot with poor protection.  As I neared, the butterfly never twitched but sat perfectly motionless in hopes that I would not notice it.  This is a defense mechanism since most predators hunt by motion.  

  Not wanting to disturb the lovely creature, I photographed it then slowly backed away...leaving it in peace.  Later as I was picking lemon balm, the butterfly flitted around the nearby zinnias and brought more delight.  In my point of view, this interaction between human and critter was far more meaningful that most of the conversations that I have had with "people" recently.  I felt blessed in more ways than one.

4am Is Calling!

   Folks are constantly questioning why I rise so early in the morning.  My answer is always "I feel better."  That is the honest truth.  My day starts at 4am and, if I linger any longer, my body starts wondering what happened.  "Hey, Woman...why are you not up yet?  Lazybones!"  Then, I guess in an effort to make me rise, aches and pains start setting in and then the brain starts shifting gears from "Let's get it done!" to "I don't wanna."  So, to avoid all of that, I rise early.  This must be a throwback to my childhood on the farm because Pop would rise at 4am and make sure that all the kids were up early to do their chores.  Mom would sleep in a bit while he "handled" things.  Once we heard that old hand-cranked coffee grinder going, we knew it was time to roll out of bed.  I smile every time I see that thing hanging on my wall!  Time to rise and shine!

  Another reason for my early rising is that I can get the indoor chores done before sunrise.  Once that time nears, I head to the pier for some peaceful "me time".  Some of my best thinking is done while watching that giant ball of fire rise up over the pines on the far side of the Bayou.  I get ideas for art/craft projects, figure out how to better the garden spots and ponder on the use of herbal concoctions.  This is the me-time that allows me to start my day in a halfway jovial manner instead of letting the worries of the world pile upon me.  Pop always told me that fretting doesn't do one bit of good so I should let go of it and just go about finding a solution to any problem.  Make sense and those early mornings give me time to hunt solutions.  Not to mention, there are some mighty pretty sights out there on the water when that sun makes its entrance.

Cute and Cuddly Otters? Not!

   It boggles my mind how many times I am told "I would love to swim/play with the otters around your pier!"  No...NO!  No, you do not want to do this.  I agree that the critters are adorably cute but they are not playthings in any sort of way.  The otters are vicious predators that would just as soon attack anything/anyone they deem as a threat...especially when they have their young out and about.  As with any good parents, the otters are fiercely protective of their pups and will fight to the death to defend them.  So...no...you do not want to play with the otters.  Just don't.  

  Yesterday morning as we eased our way down the pier, a rather large otter could be seen swimming from my brother's pier.  The critter had raided the crab pots and had its breakfast in its jaws.  As soon as it reached our pier, it went straight up onto the platform and started eating that crab.  The mama otter tried to take a swipe at the crab and was met with a sharp reprisal.  This was the dad's meal and even she was not going to take it from him.  At  that very time, some yelps could be heard in the marsh just behind us.  Several pups were calling for their mom as they made their way from the den to the water's edge.  Since Mom was aware that Mark and I were on the pier, she slipped a bit farther down to the marsh edge and barked for her babes to come hither.  They followed her voice and were soon to be seen plopping from the marsh into the water.  From there, she coaxed them to my brother's pier and remained with them for the entirety of my stay on the pier.  As for the dad?  He went on his merry way after getting his belly full. 

The Race Is On!

   With winter comes the low, low tides.  Often the water is far out beyond the marsh and even the reach of the pier.  This lack of water exposes the soft mud that hides clams, crustaceans and minnows.  The predators that normally have to stalk their prey are now able to feast upon the stranded critters.  A great number of birds, otters, raccoons, fox are out during the low tide.  The mudflats are alive with those seeking breakfast.

   This morning, hooded mergansers, egrets and herons were all making good use of the mudflats.  The ducks were busying themselves in the shallows while most of the birds stayed in the ankle-deep water.  At one point, the rush to get breakfast had me in a fit of giggles.  A tri-colored heron and a great egret seemed to literally be in a race to see who could snatch the most minnows.  If one bird snatched a morsel, the other would dart to see if there was another.  This race continued for nigh on an hour until suddenly something startled the mergansers.  As they skittered across the water, both the egret and heron took flight.  Breakfast had ended.  

  With the warming of the weather, the water will deepen and the mergansers will migrate back northward thus leaving the herons and egrets to fend for themselves.  Then, the stalking returns as each will stealthily patrol the shallows in hopes of finding a meal.  The buffet on the mudflats will be closed for another season.  

Bayou Tranquility

   Sometimes when I view the photographs of the day's happenings, they bring back vivid memories of other times.  This morning, the rising sun streamed through the pines on the opposite shore casting shadows on the water.  Several years ago, I took almost the same photograph...then, last year, the image was nigh on identical.  The only difference is the grove of trees is getting vastly thinner with all the "progress" on new houses.  No one seems to understand that we actually NEED trees but, what they do across the way is none of my business, I suppose.  So, I turn a blind eye to the ruination of the woods and try to find a positive side of it.  This is a fault of mine.  Let others fret over what is being done since I am old and possibly won't have to deal with the outcome.  They can deal with their own mess. 

  I do not turn a blind eye to everything, however.  I am one of those weird people that just looks at things a bit differently.  I figure there is beauty in all things if we only search for it...hence, the photograph of shadows on the water.  Life is too short to go around viewing ugliness.  That brings forth only despair.  It is far better to seek out beauty and fill the spirit with tranquility.  In this old, angry world, look for serenity and happiness.  Find your peace wherever you can.  The Bayou is where I find mine.

Mud Mouse?

   It is not uncommon to find mice just about anywhere.  The critters seem to have an adaptable lifestyle that allows them to move right into a spot and call it home. For a while, the area was kept quite clear of the little rascals due to the fact that the old Bayou Queen had a "liking" for them.  The old cat made it hard to find evidence of any rodent, not only in our yard, but the neighbor's as well.  She often would present them with "headless critters" as a token of her love.  The Bayou Princess, Ms. Nycto, thought she was high above such menial labor and the Bayou Prince, Bat (the cat) is too busy chasing feral cats and squirrels.  The mice are having a heyday!  Thankfully, they stay outside and have not ventured into the Little Bayou House...yet.  

  My "Mud Mouse" is of a different sort.  It has been rainy, drizzly, foggy...you name it...for the past week.  I love this weather but it does make hiking a bit difficult.  Mark and I did venture down to the pier through the drippiness and found that the north wind had pushed the tide far out from the shoreline.  This exposed the soft mud for about a good thirty feet.  It was upon those mudflats that I found my mouse!  There, as perfect as you wish to see, was the most adorable critter complete with big ears and beady eyes!  Oh, my goodness!  A mud mouse had decided to come to visit!  I just had to get a photograph.

  Pareidolia is a weird thing.  Years ago, Granddad taught me to "see faces" in everything in nature.  That spilled over to seeing "things" in just about any mundane discovery.  My mud mouse was a pure bit of happenstance.  Two clam shells were perfectly aligned by the waves to allow me to see a critter..not a live mouse, at all, but the reasonable facsimile of one!  A sealed clam as the head, an open one as the ears and an ideally placed barnacle as an eye.  Yep...a MOUSE!

 Ok, so I have always admitted to having a wild imagination and I guess this is as wild as it can get.  Most folks would probably see clam shells in the mud and not much more.  My sighting, however, tickled me and brightened the day tremendously...therefore, it cannot all be bad.  Folks, when things are a bit boring or not to your liking, look for something...anything...that can bring a smile.  Do not focus on the drear...make the sunshine...even if it is a mud mouse!

Alone...

   Early this morning as I sat on the pier, the only feeling I had was peace.  The sunrise, the patches of fog, the quietness...all created a feeling of tranquility that only the Bayou can bring.  I felt that sense of belonging. The work day started and ended with much the same feeling...I belonged. Then, this evening, an entirely different feeling engulfed me.  It was weird.  It was not something that I usually entertain but I felt alone...entirely alone.  This is not to even be confused with loneliness...I was not lonely...I was simply alone.  The sensation that I was the only person within miles engulfed me and lingered throughout the evening.  Trust me, folks, it is a strange feeling...very strange.  Other than the ticking of the clocks and the purring of the cat, nary a sound could be heard.  No traffic on the highway to the north...no boat traffic on the Bay.  Looking out the door...nothing could be seen.  A thick blanket of fog blocked any lights from across the Bayou and even the distant shore.  Nothing. 

  This all came after a day of feeling quite accomplished since I completed every chore that I had set before myself last evening.  Laundry was done, pizza sauce had been made and home-canned, "swamp shack" (aka...greenhouse) was painted, cabbage plants were set into the rows and even an art project was started.  I should have felt on top of the world but, instead, I felt alone.  It is hard to describe.  Perhaps...it is better described as being content in solitude and not wishing to return to the frenzy of the outside world.  Alone but definitely not lonely.  I pulled Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, a bit closer and relished the solitude...the tranquility...the aloneness.

After The Dive

   The little female Belted Kingfisher that hangs around between the pier and my brother's pier has become rather accustomed to my presence.  At first, even getting that sought after photograph was difficult.  She darted here and there and was never sitting still enough for the camera to focus on her.  This morning was foggy but my little friend was still busy catching breakfast.  She was sitting on a rope strung between two posts on my brother's pier.  She would wait for an unsuspecting fish to swim close to the water's surface then dive down to retrieve it.  She is very adept at catching most any fish she deems to be a meal. 

  While I watched, she caught several before settling in to "clean up the mess".  Her feathers were soaked between the dive and the heavy fog...time for a bath! Using her long beak, the little bird thoroughly went through every feather...from head to toe!  Several times she fluffed the feathers out which made her look twice her actual size!

  Once she cleared the feathers of most of the water, she began preening.  Preening is a method of "oiling" the feathers to keep them somewhat waterproof but also in good condition.  Birds use oil from a uropygial gland that is near the base of their tails.  They use their beaks to smooth the oil on each feather then on their legs and feet.  It seems that birds have quite the "beauty" routine but this is merely a method of protecting their feathers and leg/feet scales.  

  After my bird friend finished, she flew off to another perch high in a pine tree near the marsh.  For me, I already had dozens of photographs and a light coating of fog settling on my clothing.  It was time for me to head back to the Little Bayou House and clean up myself!

It's Pirate Treasure!

   A few years back, I noticed a bright, glowing spot on the water right at the edge of the marsh.  This spot was on the opposite shore if I looked eastward.  It was late fall and right at sunset when the intense light appeared.  I was so adamant that one of the recent hurricanes had washed something ashore there that Mark paddled the small skiff to the spot to check.  He found nothing amiss.  In fact, by the time he got there, the "spot" had fully disappeared.  The sun had slid down behind the pines and fully blocked the beams.  We pondered this for quite some time but never figured out why the sun pinpointed that spot with its rays.  What was reflecting the light?  Our murky, muddy waters are not sparkling enough to cause this phenomenon.   Then, as seasons do, things shifted and the sun was not at the "perfect" angle to create the brilliant splash on the shore.

  Yesterday evening as we sat on the pier, the glow appeared again.  The sunset has now shifted enough to reflect on whatever is causing the glow.  There, at the edge of the marsh seated beneath a background of groundsel bushes and goldenrod, the shimmer was back, if only for a few fleeting moments.  I was tempted to ask Mark to paddle the skiff to the spot once again!  (Poor fellow!)  As we mulled over the possibilities, he mumbled something about pirate treasure and that was all it took to get the wheels going in my head!  Perhaps that is it!  Maybe some pirate ship made its way into the Bay and deposited treasure in that exact spot!  After many years and a goodly number of hurricanes, the gold doubloons are spilling out over the muddy bank catching the sun's rays!  Interesting thought, but I do believe someone would have already laid claim to the treasure if it was out in the open with a huge spotlight shining on it.  Although...pirate treasure would be something that my brain could wrap itself around and come up with a dozen or so tall tales to explain the shimmer across the Bay!

  Will we ever be able to explain what is causing our "bright spot" or shall we leave it up to speculation and let the "haunted tales" become another "Bayou Legend"?  I sort of like the latter.  Leave some things unexplained.   

Rattling Call, Incredible Speed...The Belted Kingfisher!

   Belted Kingfishers are rather skittish birds.  They are shy and tend to stay away from people if at all possible.  Add their incredible speed and you can easily see why the birds are notoriously difficult to photograph.  This makes the "hunt" interesting.  Sometimes the only indication that a kingfisher is in the area is its call.  The bird is usually solitary and only meets up with another during breeding season.  

  One thing that is a bit unusual about the Belted Kingfishers is that the female is more brightly colored than the male.  If you see one with an extra "belt" of rust color across its chest, that is the female.  Males lack this and are only blue and white.  There is some question as to why the female is more colorful since this is not the norm.  Usually, male birds are brightly colored to attract females and the females are muted as to stay hidden while on the nest.  What gives with the kingfishers?  

  One explanation that seems most logical is, that since kingfishers are highly territorial, the rust-colored band gives a resident male a clue that he need not defend his territory but should welcome the visitor.  When in the midst of many battles with other (intruder) males, that bit of color is sort of like a flag.  The male can easily distinguish the female as a possible mate instead of an interloper.

  This morning, I heard the rattling call of a kingfisher near the pier.  Determined to get my photograph, I plunked myself down and waited.  I was rewarded when a female bird landed on a tall pole on my brother's pier.  Ahh!  I had to be quick!  I snapped exactly one picture before the bird dove into the water, snatched a fish and flew to a nearby pine tree.  She was gone...but I had my picture!

The Weirdness Continues!

   With the drought still upon us (16wks with no rain), the salinity in the Bay and Bayou has vastly changed.  With that change, there has been a huge change in the critters, as well.  All of our brackish water creatures have gone farther up into the rivers leaving the saltiness behind.  Now, fish and sea creatures from the Gulf of Mexico are converging into our area.  This makes for some interesting fishing.  The Bay and Bayou are still filled with life...just of a different ilk.

  This morning, Mark and I headed back to the pier in hopes of catching enough fish for lunch.  Today, that was easy.  As I was throwing the net, I caught some nice mullet and a few shrimp.  Seafood is always welcome as a meal!  Then, I had to turn the net over to him simply because I caught something "interesting".  (Son always says that I have a short attention span and get easily distracted.  I say things are interesting.)  Anyway, it was time to do a quick photo shoot of the latest "weird critter caught from the pier"!

  This time, I caught a squid!  Squid are normally NEVER up this far.  These are strictly...very strictly "sea" creatures. They need that saltwater to live.  Well, that just shows how salty our Bay is right now.  This is actually a White Squid or Brief Squid or Loligunclia brevis...according to my expert in the field of sea creatures.  (Yes, Andre is truly an expert so I trust his identifications.)  It really did not matter what the critter was called, it was cute.  I knew it was a squid and did not belong near the pier so that was a good enough reason for me to drop the net and pick up the camera.  I took a few pictures and let my friend go back into the water.  Several folks had to reprimand me for letting it go as it could have been used as bait but I figured I had plenty of menhaden so the wayward critter got a reprieve.  So...the weirdness continues and I shall keep photographing! 

"Bayou" Mackerel?

   Yesterday's catch from the pier was a gigantic stingray.  I am still a bit sore from battling that monster but it was about as fun as it gets for anyone who loves to fish.  The challenge of landing a huge creature is thrilling.  Thankfully, the stingray will live to see another day.  That catch had me a bit pumped about heading back to the pier this morning.  After catching more menhaden for bait, Mark and I settled in for the morning of fishing.  It was not long before we had a few bites from catfish and trout. The morning looked promising!

  Then...leave it to me...an odd thing happened.  While watching a pod of dolphins making their way toward the pier, my line started zinging out.  Setting the hook, the battle began.  This was not nearly as tough as the stingray but, boy, did that fish jump about the place.  Thinking perhaps I had a ladyfish that are known to do a lot of jumping when hooked, I kept reeling.  Once I pulled the 18in fish onto the pier, I realized that this was definitely not one that I should be catching in our brackish water.  How in the world??  This was a Spanish Mackerel!  This fish should be out in the salty Gulf...not here by the pier!

  Actually, the drought has caused the salinity of the Bay and Bayou to go haywire.  What is normally considered brackish water has become quite salty do to the lack of rain.  This saltiness allows Gulf fish to venture up into the Bay.  With the overload of menhaden around the pier, it only makes sense that the fish will follow.  Without much promise of rain in the forecast, my daily fishing may continue to bring a few surprises.  As with the stingray (which we do occasionally catch here...salty or not), the mackerel went free.  I really did not want to clean that fish with all the "pin" bones.  Call me lazy but I prefer something a bit easier to fillet.  Go free, fishy!  I wonder what tomorrow will bring?
 

Just Paddlin' Along!

   As one might guess, I spend a lot of time on the pier.  It is one of the places that brings complete tranquility...there and the swamps.  It is while I am in these places that I find some of my best "friends"...those of the critter sort.  Yesterday's friend was a young seagull that seemed to be quite interested in my fishing bait.  Gulls have been known to steal a few of the menhaden that I use to catch my lunch or catch catfish for the crab pots.  This gull was just waiting for its chance!  So... to avoid snagging the gull in an attempt to pull my bait from its beak, I decided to just toss the bird a few minnows.  That would satisfy it and, thus, keep it safe.

  Before being fed, the bird sat on the post of my brother's pier.  Our piers are a short distance apart so the gull had a perfect "bird's eye view" of the happenings on our pier. Once I offered it the minnows, it came to visit then decided to fly southward over the water.  Instead of going back to the pier post, the goofy gull took a swim.  Yep, for the next hour, the gull paddled around like a duck.  It seemed to be one happy camper just floating on the water and never made an effort to find a perching spot.  This was the longest that I have witnessed a gull swim.  Those little webbed feet where getting a workout!  Its belly was full so now it could just paddle away the morning without a care in the world.

Nine Catfish, One Stingray, One Trout and a Big Lizard!

   Early this morning, I caught a few menhaden so Mark and I could go fishing.  The end of the pier is my choice of fishing spots as it is convenient.  If the fish are not biting, I can simply head back to the gardens to work.  This morning, however, we were determined to catch some hardhead catfish to use as crab bait.  It was not long before the fish started biting and I was pulling in one catfish after another. Suddenly, the pull bent downward and the drag started humming.  I knew I had something a bit larger than a hardhead. One nice gafftopsail (catfish) was hauled to the pier.  Then, another good pull and a stingray was flopped onto the pier.  That could be used as crab bait, as well!  At one point, Mark was swishing around in the bait bucket to hand me a minnow, when I heard his line going out like crazy!  I grabbed the pole and pulled in a small trout.  Well...maybe our lunch?  Catfish continued to bite until I had to head back to chores.  All in all, it was a good morning!

  As I walked back up to the pier, I became exasperated.  In the edge of the marsh was a large piece of plastic.  Since it was out of reach, I grabbed my reel and tossed the hook over the edge of the plastic.  The hook slid around and caught hold of an attached rope.  Smooth sailing!  The plastic sheet easily came to the pier.  I picked it up and had to start giggling.  After all of those fish, I had now caught a "Big Lizard"!  It seems this was one of those "boogie boards" or "wake boards" that I have seen young folks using.  (Not sure on either of those terms.)  Anyway, the name printed on the top was "Big Lizard"!  I wonder where that came from? It sort of fit...maybe?  I went from fishing to the garden and caught a big lizard?  Anyway, the morning was fun and now...beautiful rain!  Hopefully, it will rain all night and end this dreadful drought!

All Choked Up...

   You can catch some of the oddest critters when throwing the net from the pier.  In fact, I never know exactly what might be in the catch.  Everything from the tiniest pipefish to a monster of a snapping turtle have been hauled to the pier.  Pipefish...I can handle.  Snapping turtles...I cannot.  Those critters tear up the entire net and are a pain to set free.  Not something I relish.  

  For the past week or so, some schools of shrimp have been making their way through the Bay and that calls for the locals to head down to their piers with the nets.  We never catch huge amounts but we are grateful for any we do.  During those throws we find our odd critters.  Yesterday's oddity (somewhat) is known as a hogchoker.  Mark caught several and I finally convinced him to get a photograph for me as my camera was safe inside the house.  The hogchoker is native here.  It is perhaps the flattest fish in these parts even more than the flounder.  A hogchoker only gets about 5 inches in length and is quite camouflaged in color.  This coloring allows it to blend well with the muddy bottoms where it hides.  Like all other flat fish, when it is born it has an eye on either side of its body but the "bottom" eye migrates to the top of the fish before it is a month old or about 1/2 inch in length.  Pretty cool!

  When my kids were little, they loved playing with the tiny hogchokers.  While I was throwing the net, a bucket of water and a few hogchokers kept the kiddos entertained.  After they played with the "suckerfish" (their name) for a while, they knew to return them to the same place where we caught them.  Odd critters make wonderful babysitters and provide plenty of learning experiences.  Teach 'em young, folks.  Teach 'em young!