Hoodies, Golden Moments and Memories!

   A few mornings ago, I awoke to find the room awash in a golden glow.  That told me that the sunrise was to be spectacular.  Even though, I had little emotional energy left to even think of sunrises, sunsets or anything else on the Bayou, instinct made me stumble out to the pier.  Golden....beautiful golden moments...those are the times that life hands you when you least expect.

  That morning, the waters of the Bay were pushed far from the shore by the north winds of overnight.  The mudflats were busied by the raccoons and shorebirds foraging for breakfast but I was more interested in three little beings paddling in the shallows.  The hoodies were back!  Hooded mergansers hold a special place in my heart.  They are not seen here except during the winter months and, even then, they are here for only few weeks.  I try to enjoy them as much as possible while the opportunity lasts.

  One of my early recollections of the hoodies involved my grandmother.  She loved feeding all the birds even the waterfowl.  Come wintertime, she would carefully put birdseed in the long, tray-like feeder under the south-facing window and then fill a pie tin with bread crumbs, corn and sometimes barley.  Carefully, she would traipse down to the pier my granddad had built.  The goodies would be scattered on the lower part of the lawn for the ducks to enjoy.  If, Pop and Granddad were trying to do a little duck hunting near the mouth of the Bayou, she would bang that pie tin and give a call of "Here, duck, duck, duck!"  Yep, those menfolk gave up the hunt rather quickly since they knew that "Hattie" was not approving of their antics!  Plus, all of the ducks within earshot would flock to their free meal.  Of course, the fish-eating mergansers never came to feast upon the grains but the banging on the tin would send them skittering across the water!

  It is funny how a simple things like the hoodies' presence can bring back a flood of memories.  Golden moments abound!  Life is good. 

  

Swim Goggles and Pie Pans

  Sometimes it pays to hike down to the pier in the cold, drizzly rain.  Not many times...but sometimes.  While I was waiting on the old dog to make his morning rounds, I ambled to the pier in hopes of seeing the otter pups at play.  Instead, I was treated to a sighting of four Hooded Mergansers.  These are probably my favorites of the ducks that visit the Bayou.  While I love every waterfowl in the area, there is just something special about these tiny ducks.  Perhaps this goes as far back as my childhood when I would visit my grandparents who lived on this very Bayou.  My grandmother loved the little mergansers and would watch them when they came to visit for the winter.  My granddaddy, on the other hand, would hunt the ducks.  He and Pop would push the little skiff out on the mudflats and wait for the ducks to fly into the area.  Grandmother would rush down to the end of their pier with a pie pan in her hand.  She would beat that pan and call to the ducks.  "Here, duck, duck, duck!"  Bang, bang, bang!  Sure enough, the ducks would flock to her and be safe from the guns of Pop and Granddaddy.  I was allowed to "help" Grandmother on her mission to save the ducks and had my very own pie pan to beat!  Eventually, the menfolk gave up on having duck for dinner and the little mergansers were safe for another day.  Grandmother was happy.  The menfolk were not so happy.  Me?  I felt important banging my pie pan in protection of the ducks!

  The little ducks visiting the pier this morning were busy working the shallows.  They were in search of breakfast and swam around with their heads under water, more oft than not.  Hooded Mergansers "sight" fish.  With their heads underwater, they can see the fish.  Mergansers have a nictitating membrane (third eyelid) that acts a lot like swim goggles.  Not only does this protect the eye, it also allows perfect vision under water.  Though the pickings were scarce this chilly morn, the ducks were obviously finding something to eat.  They hung around near the pier for a good while longer than I did.  That rain was cold and the wind blustery.  It was time for me to go stoke the woodstove and get another mug of hot coffee!  Glad to have you back for a few months, Hoodies!

Duck-hunting Day

I sat at the window looking out over the Bay early this morning while drinking my first mug of coffee.  It was a drizzly, cold morning and one in which I prefer to be inside the Little Bayou House.  With the woodburning stove chugging out a blazing fire, I felt warm and cozy.  I pondered just would make anyone want to be out in such weather but I heard-tell that there were lots of deer hunters in the woods.  Well, they can have the thrill of the hunt if it means getting soaked in this bone-chilling weather.  I took another sip of my steaming hot coffee.  Yep, it felt mighty fine right here!  I do remember as a kid having to go to the fields in such weather to pick collards and turnip greens for Pop to sell but never to sit outside and wait for a critter to wander into the area.  However, Pop did have stories to tell of his younger days and times spent duck hunting on this very Bayou.  He said that rainy, cold mornings were the best days to be out there.  Hmmm.  I beg to differ.

As matter of fact, there are a ton of ducks hanging close to the marshes this morning.  As I watched through the window, I tried to imagine Pop and Granddad sitting out there waiting for a few ducks to get into range.  Since they had no retrieving dogs, any shot ducks would have to be nabbed by the hunters themselves.  Usually, the canoe or pirogue was called into duty.  Pop or Granddad would slip into the small craft and pole out to pick up the downed ducks.  Then once back on shore, they would continue their wait.

I have the decoys that Pop and Granddad used to use during their outings.  These are not the plastic type of today but ones made of paper mache.  Two are so old and timeworn that it is impossible to identify the type duck they are supposed to represent.  The other four are definitely mallards..two drakes and two hens.  The mallards have lots of dings and dents from being used but the most prevalent injury to one came from my oldest son.  After years of being subjected to the harshest conditions of hunting, it took a two-year-old toddler to render one almost useless.  Mom used to keep the decoys on the hearth as a decoration after it became fashionable to have rustic decor.  As a toddler, my son, Mark, was quite curious of all things.  He seemed to be particularly taken with the decoys.  He would play with the realistic looking birds for hours but one day he decided that they were riding toys.  He plopped himself down right on one of the drakes and grasped ahold to the head.  Ooops! That head popped right off!  Poor duck!  Poor little boy!  The duck was now headless and that little boy was horrified!  As Mom tried to console her little grandson, I attempted to reglue the head.  Needless to say, that poor duck was never the same!  Funny thing, a few years later, my daughter, Elizabeth, did the same thing to one of the hens!  Now two of the decoys had broken necks!

I came into possession of the ducks after Mom and Pop passed away and the decoys are part of my decor.  I try to keep the decoys up a bit higher than the hearth just in case we have little visitors to the Little Bayou House.  Little hands are still reaching for those ducks!  (I am happy to say that their heads are still intact....at the moment!)

Those decoys will most likely never again be used to lure ducks into range of a gun.  Sitting in the cold and rain just doesn't seem like that much fun!  The decoys and I will sit right here and enjoy our warm "nest" while we look out over the Bayou.