Whisper Soft

   As I was out wandering about the place earlier, I noticed something falling from the sky.  I watched as a feather slowly, slowly descend from somewhere in the treetops.  Then, it softly landed at my feet.  It is a gorgeous feather.  One side of the shaft is brilliant white and the other is a soft grey and it is as downy soft as a whisper.   I am not certain what type bird lost this feather so I figure it is just an "angel feather".  It is one of those "signs" that tells you things are all going to be alright.   We all need that right now...at least, I do.

  There are many different beliefs of what a feather symbolizes but most have good connotations.  A good many do refer to angels or those of our past.  Some say that finding a feather means that angels are near and are protecting the finder.  Others say that a loved one from your past is paying a visit.   White feathers supposedly symbolize purity, peace and understanding while grey represents enlightenment, harmony and wisdom.  The two together is a perfect sign.  Whether you believe in signs or not, is none of my business but you do have to admit with the state of the world today, it is nice to find something that talks of peace, harmony and wisdom.  

Faerie Tale In The Making!

  This morning as the Queen of the Small Gardens was exploring her vast realm, a single fluffy feather floated down to land at her feet.  Caught by surprise, she stopped to stare.  She searched for any sign of a bird overhead but found none.  At that point, the Queen gently picked up the feather and felt its softness.  Turning the feather over in her hand, she examined the fine markings.  Then, she decided that the feather was from her old friend, Owl of the Woods.  Owl of the Woods often comes to the Queen's gardens to offer his protection from the rodents that raided the fruit and vegetables grown there.  The Queen of the Small Gardens was thankful for the gesture and vowed to always allow her friend the freedom to come and go as he pleases.

 Ok, so enough fantasizing for the day.  Yes, a soft, brown feather did float from the sky to land at my feet and I am quite sure it came from an owl that visits nightly.  In fact, had I been looking in the treetops instead of at the ground, I probably would have seen the owl take flight as it headed back to the creek area.  There are several owls that come to the yard to snatch the mice and rice rats that raid the garden for their supper.  I consider all of the birds of prey as my friends as they do a huge favor in keeping the garden pest free.

  There is some symbolism surrounding the finding of feathers.  Most folks are familiar with the lore around a white feather as it is called an "Angel feather".  Many claim that the white feather is a message from a relative from the beyond.  Someone who has passed is sending support, love or good wishes.  It is a nice thought and brings comfort to those missing someone dear.  My brown feather also has such a lore behind it.  Finding a brown feather relates to home, roots and grounding.  Perhaps there is an unsettled feeling within the home and family and there is a need for peace.  Perhaps stress is weighing heavy and needs to be relieved.  Perhaps illness has fallen on a family member and encouragement is sought.  Whatever the case, finding a brown feather offers peace, comfort and love.  I will take it!

  I did want to point out the structure of the brown feather and why I tentatively identified it as from an owl.  The soft "fluff" that covers most of the shaft allows owls to fly almost silently.  This stealth is needed in their search for prey.  When an owl takes flight, there is very little sound to alert rodents.  A whisper on the wind describes their stealth rather well.  A whisper on the wind...Owl of the Woods...Queen of the Small Gardens...sounds like a faerie tale in the making!  I should work on that with my overload of time for the duration of my limitations.

Just As Important As A Woodpecker

  For all I know, others may not stop in their tracks to inspect the little things on a hiking trail or in the garden.  Maybe it is just me.  Maybe I find too many things interesting.  Maybe I have found enough peace in my life that other folks' drama is not to my liking.  Whatever the case, I have such a natural curiosity about the happenings around me that most things require noticing.  Just today while in the garden, a small feather suddenly drifted down from the treetops.  That feather demanded a good ten minutes of my time for no other reason than to admire its beauty.  The feather was recognized as being from one of the red-belly woodpeckers that frequent the area.  A pair nested in the nearby dead pine but the nest was raided by a rat snake before the little ones fledged.  Now, they are eyeing the black gum tree in hopes that their next brood will survive.  As I flipped the feather between my fingers, I thought of the terror that the parent birds must have felt knowing that there was not much they could do to fend off the four foot long snake.  But life goes on and they are, once again, pondering having a family.  My thoughts then drifted to how much I appreciate the woodpeckers that inhabit the woods and yard.  They have done their part in ridding the area of many insects especially those that bore into the trees.  Ahh, yes.  I put the feather back in place and continued with the clearing of the garden.

  There is a lot of time to think while pulling out old tomato plants and it occurred to me that folks just do not get outside enough.  Perhaps if they did, the world would be a lot nicer.  While out in nature pondering all of the beauty it has to offer, it is hard to condemn others and hard to think you are all important.  In nature, you are no more important than the woodpecker who lost the aforementioned feather. In nature, your opinions are just that...opinions and no one gives a flip about them.  (In reality, that is the way it is anywhere.  No one really changes because you think your opinion should rule.  Nope...doesn't happen.)  Critters don't have opinions and surely don't expect others to bow down to them.  They just accept what life gives them, don't pretend to be better than anyone else and sure don't get miffed about any of it.  That is the way it is here on the Bayou.  That is the way it should be everywhere.  Folks, to put it nicely, get up off your...umm...sofa and go outside.  Observe what is around you.  Examine things.  Ponder things.  And, for goodness sakes, stop thinking the world revolves around you and you alone.  Mother Nature could teach you a thing or two.  It would do you the world of good.

Tell Us Your Secret!

  I am bewildered.  How in the world do egrets stay so spotlessly clean? Their brilliant white plumage never shows a speck of mud even though they slosh around in some of the ickiest sludge known to man.  Bayou mud sticks to everything and is nigh on impossible to remove.  If there is one thing that I have learned living this close to marsh, mudflats and brackish water, it is to always wear your oldest clothes if you are out hiking.  A pair of jeans, an old shirt and either hiking boots or leather moccasins are my choice.  Just never....ever...wear white!  If you do, you are just asking for trouble.  This mud won't even bleach out of clothing. But those birds...those gleaming white birds never seem to get muddy.  I love to watch the Snowy Egrets as they stalk their prey in the shallows of the Bayou.  They are gorgeous birds. 

  The other day, Mark pointed to a feather in the marsh.  Obviously, it came from an egret as it is molting time for them.  They are getting their breeding plumage now so a feather can be found in the marsh or on the shoreline occasionally.  This feather was found near the mudflats so was covered with the dark crud.  Idea!  I would fish out the feather and see just how easily it cleans!  Why?  Curiosity.  

  The feather was washed, soaped, scrubbed and finally bleached.  It was still stained and nasty.  With all of my work, I still had no idea how the birds stay so immaculately clean.  What a breakthrough in the laundry world it would be if we could only figure out their secret!  Oh, and take a hint from me....do NOT wear white on the Bayou! 

Heartbroken

  The songbirds here on the Bayou have been having a most terrible time this spring.  What with a Screech Owl and two Rat Snakes raiding the nests of the little ones, Crows and squirrels snatching eggs as soon as they are laid and now the Cooper's Hawk murdering the adult birds, things are not looking good.  This evening just before dark, I heard a familiar sort of "clucking" noise.  Hmmm?  Where had I heard that before?  Then it dawned on me.  The Cooper's Hawk was in the yard again.  Oh, geez!  I have taken down the bird feeders for this very reason. This hawk is great at staking out a place near the feeders and then attacking when the songbirds come to feed.  But the feeders are down...and have been for some time now.  Why is the hawk still here?  I figure that it has a nest nearby and needs food for its little ones and one of my fat Mourning Doves fit the bill readily.

  I headed outside to see if I could prevent at least one murder of the slow-moving doves.  Perhaps my presence would make the hawk move to other parts.  It did not happen as planned.  Just as I stepped out the gate, I heard the soft twittering of a dove's wings as it rose from the far end of the rose garden.  Before I could even take two steps, a flash of wings and the dove was in the clutches of the hawk.  I wish I had not seen that.

  Even though I was too late, I still meandered over to where the cruel deed had been done.  A single feather floated softly down from above. My poor dove.  It seems as if the predators are winning this year and there is nothing that I can do to change that fact.  I guess I should be happy that the little ones of the predators are well fed.........I guess.  I do like the hawks.  I just do not like them eating my songbirds!

Those Amazing Birds

  The Bayou is evidently a safe haven for woodpeckers of all kinds. Perhaps the many Longleaf Pine Trees and Black Gum Trees have something to do with their staying around here.  These trees provide them with many good places to call home.  The Black Gum Trees are especially favorable as once damaged, the tree dies from the top downward.  For years to come, a dead Black Gum Tree will stand strong against the winds.  The top of one of these dying trees is usually riddled with large holes that the woodpeckers drill with their steady pounding. Even if the holes are not used by the woodpecker, other critters or birds will lay claim to the easy nesting site.

It is easy to see how the tail feathers are used as a prop.

  While out and about, I found another feather from one of my friendly Pileated Woodpeckers.  This time of year is molting season so the yard is littered with all sorts of castoff feathers.  The most recent one that caught my attention was a tail feather from a woodpecker.  The feather was easy to identify as from what bird and what type of feather.  All woodpeckers have specialized tail feathers that allow them to "hold" on to trees as they hammer out a hole either looking for bugs or building a nest.  The birds use their tail as a sort of prop.  The tail feathers have very sharp, stiff points that actually can "dig" into tree bark.  These feathers along with their unique toes allow the bird to easily climb up trees.  Their toes are different than other birds.  While most perching birds have three toes forward and one back, woodpeckers have two forward and two back...but it is those tail feathers that caught my eye.

  While examining the feather, I ran my finger across the tip.  The tip was divided into two spikes and was coated with some stuff that almost resembled resin.  I pondered if this was normal or if the bird's tail actually "collected" the sap from the pine trees.  This is something that I will have to research!  

  Finding this feather made me even more aware of how amazingly unique birds are.  They are all given special features that allow them to survive.  The tail feathers and toe placement allow the a woodpecker to scale even the tallest of trees.  Its strong bill and super long tongue allow it to drill holes and "fish" out beetles and grubs that are far under the tree bark.  Amazing!

Maybe it is a "Mom Thing"...

  Due to a furniture move, my computer is now placed near the windows overlooking the Bayou.  I love it as it gives me a chance to enjoy the breeze coming off the Bay while catching up with my kids via the internet.  For the past few weeks, I have had a nightly visitor.  Just about dark, a lone mockingbird flies in, lands on the window screen and chirps softly at me.  I know the bird can see me as I am not but an arm's length from the screen.  Since the bird has instigated the nightly visit, I join in on the conversation.  We chat for a while and as darkness falls, the bird moves to the rose arbor to roost for the night.  It is there that the bird can rest easy in the relative safety that the rose thorns provide. 

  A few years back, I raised two orphaned mockingbirds and released them in the yard.  While most folks find the birds annoying with their nightly singing or bossiness, I enjoy them.  Perhaps this love was brought on merely by the fact that I was "Mom" for a summer or perhaps it is a throwback to my Mom.  She was one who had trouble sleeping at night and would spend hours listening to the mockingbird outside the window.  Mom was always musically talented and spent this time counting the different "verses" in the mockingbird's song.  She never tired of the nightly serenade nor do I. This evening the bird came once again.  I so longed to photograph her but was afraid that the camera might spook her.  I do not want to scare her from coming each night so I refrained. When she left, I noticed a tiny, wispy feather stuck to the screen.  This is evidence enough that she comes. 

  My visiting mockingbird is obviously a female.  She does not sing the loud, almost obnoxious, trilling of the males.  She, more or less, murmurs her conversation with me.  If there was any noise whatsoever in the house, I most likely miss her altogether.  I sit in silence just to commune with my friend all the while pondering if this could possibly be one of the babies...my babies...from a few years ago.  I fostered the birds back in 2011 but mockingbirds can live a long time.  Shelby (the female) learned to sing a lot sooner than her brother, Knox.  Her song then was more of a warble...soft, slow and calming.  The bird that comes to visit has the same song.  Could it be?  Could this be Shelby? I like to think it is.  Sweet Shelby.  Sweet, sweet Shelby.  You bring back memories...memories of little birds and of my mom.  It cannot get much better than that.

The Decorated Tree

  No, this is not a tale about a Christmas Tree and not even one about the so called Halloween Tree or any other holiday tree.  This is about a tree decorated by Mother Nature and is most likely the prettiest of all decorated trees.  It seems that Mother Nature has talent that far outweighs anything that we, as humans, could ever imagine.  The beauty that she sprinkles in our gardens, in the woods, along the marshes and on the hillsides is beyond compare in my humble opinion. This is all for our enjoyment if we just take the time to really see things instead of passing them by.  

  Out back in one of the orange trees, something fluttering in the breeze caught my eye.  Of course, I had to investigate so off I trotted to the citrus trees.  Hung up on one of the branches was a small feather. While the feather was a very pale gray, it sort of glimmered in the sunshine. Obviously, a bird had been preening itself among the branches.  The feather had become entangled on a tiny thorn and dangled like a precious ornament.  Ahh, yes, Mother Nature was out decorating her trees!

  I looked at the feather and was tempted to snatch it from the thorn. Then I thought "Why?  Why take this delicate ornament and ruin the moment?"  My hand dropped and I just stared at the soft fluttering.  The grayness seemed to stand out more when the wind would still and then the feather would return to its brilliance with each puff of breeze.  I was almost mesmerized by a simple lost feather.  

  There is a saying "When angels are near, feathers appear."  What a happy thought!  Perhaps my guardian angel was nearby protecting me from some unseen danger or just there to ease any misguided thoughts. There is also the thought that different color feathers represent different things.  A gray feather is said to be a call to peace within.  That I understand. While in the garden, I am at peace.  It is amazing how a simple thing such as a feather can bring calmness.  I left the garden smiling, the tiny feather continued to flutter in the breeze, and Mother Nature had succeeded in her goal.