Embrace it

  Fogged in.  Pea-soup thick, ghostly grey, covered with a gossamer film fog...every day...every day...I wake up to this greyness...this sogginess.  It is not that I mind because the fog has several good points with the best being that watering the garden is not necessary.  There is no dragging that hose about for a good hour to soak all of the cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower plants.  Instead, I can concentrate on gathering the firewood for the upcoming cold front that is to slide in behind this dampness.

  Another good thing about the fog is that it gives me the opportunity to get a whole lot closer to the wildlife around here.  The fog makes the ground soggy which muffles the footsteps and it also shrouds the view so critters are not afraid.  This morning as I was on the pier, several ducks ventured quite near. One was a merganser that actually came within a few feet as it tried to figure out just what that dark blob (me) was.  The sweet little thing kept getting closer and closer.  Although, I would have loved to get a clear picture of the bird, I was purely satisfied with just being so near.   Perhaps if the mergansers get accustomed to my presence, a few clear photos will be obtained once the fog lifts.  I have always loved the little "hoodies".

  Fog...embrace it.  There is really not much else you can do.  

Gus Needs An Umbrella!

   Son and I were making light of all the fog that has shrouded the Bayou since around the start of December.  He made the comment that while others wish for a white Christmas, we are pretty much guaranteed one...only not snow...fog.  White out fog is the winter rule around here.  Trees stay drippy,  floors stay sticky and my hair seems to always be limp and lifeless.  While the views of my hikes are blurry, I, at least, have the ability to "walk softly" on the molding leaves.  Critters cannot hear me or either they are so fed up with the weather that they just do not care if something else is on the prowl.  We are one...the bayou critters and I.

  Early morning was a bust on the pier as the planks were iced over making it a mite treacherous to make an attempt at getting to the end.  I had to be satisfied with staying on the shore end for fear of slipping into the icy mud where I would become mired for sure.  It was not until the frost melted that the pier was walkable.  Along about 8am, I ventured out once again.  It was then that I found Old Gus, the brown pelican.  Poor old fellow was trying to dry out his wings.  It was a pointless task with the heavy fog drenching his feathers as fast as any drip drying could be taking place.  It was not hard to imagine just how cold the pelican must have been with wet feathers and spread wide wings.  Critters have it rough.  I could always make a dash back to the Little Bayou House.  Which is exactly what I did and, along the way, I grabbed another armload of firewood to stoke the old wood-burning stove.  

Blocking out the world

  This morning was foggy and, again this evening, it is foggy.  I am talking pea-soup thick type fogginess.  The kind that gets the brain off in a tizzy about what lies just beyond the next bend or in the next thicket.  It is the eerie sort of fog like what you read about in all horror tales..."It was a dark, foggy night when..."  Yeah, that.

  I actually did not get to the pier until almost 8am.  I was up but busy in the kitchen trying to replicate a recipe that I made up three days ago.  It was heartily approved by Son and he had the suggestion that I "write this one".  So, I experimented in the wee hours of the morn but that put me late for the sunrise...well, not really.  The "sun" tried to make an appearance but the fog was stronger.  

  This reminded me of a time when Pop and I had gone fishing about 4am one morning years ago.  I was still just a kid but, that day, I learned a lesson that would last a lifetime.  The fog was so thick that we really could not see much past the little skiff.  As he steered the small outboard motor, he told me to keep an eye on the shoreline.  "We sure do not want to get lost and wind up in the channel."  Tugboats pushing several barges would not be able to stop in time to avoid hitting a small skiff that was hidden in the fog.  I dutifully watched the shoreline and when it suddenly disappeared, I called to Pop!  "I cannot see it anymore!"  I was nervous that I had let us be put in danger.  Pop, on the other hand, was calm and used a bit of commonsense.  He dropped anchor.  Yep!  We were still in the shallows.  Whew!  So, we sat where we were and fished.  It was hours later before the sun arose and we found we were still near the shoreline.  We did, however, catch a lot of fish in that spot!

  The fog makes things appear much differently.  It blocks out the background and makes all nearby be seen in a different way.  Sights, sounds and even smells are all surreal. Trees seem to loom much larger, a simple footstep echoes through the woods and odors are much more intense.  Everything feels "close".  Walking around the marsh edge gives me the opportunity to view things as never before.  These foggy days are some of my favorites.

No Monsters!

   The other morning, fog totally blocked out any sight beyond the pier.  It was as if the world beyond the Bayou suddenly ceased to exist.  Fog, in general, has always had a "creep" appeal about it.  Have you ever noticed that in movies, fog predicts a scary moment.  Let a mist start swirling and you just know some villain or monster is about to appear! 

   Personally, I like the fog.  It brings a lot of things into perspective.  Fog allows you to see what is close around you...really see it like never before.  Your full attention is focused on only what is near so your awareness becomes crystal clear.  Each step taken is studied.  Each sound resonates.  Each sense is bombarded with stimulation.  Blocking out the world beyond makes the near become life. (By the way, no monsters nor villains appeared!  Just fog...peaceful, silent fog.)

  

Murky Waters, Murky Skies

  I will be the first to tell you that the waters of the Bayou are quite murky.  Hearing of the clear, bluish-green water of other places almost seems surreal to me since I have never witnessed that.  Our water is muddy and. at times, has a sort of golden tint due to clay that is washed down through the creeks.  We are accustomed to it but visitors are sometimes taken aback thinking it is polluted.  Nope, it is brackish.  There is a difference.  

  This morning, a heavy fog laid in across the Bay and Bayou almost entirely blocking out the sunrise.  When the sun did try to peep through, the best it could do was tint everything the same gold of the water.  Honestly, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began as the color was so similar.  Perhaps, we also have brackish fog!

  As far as I could tell, the only other critter out during this drippy mess was a lone crab sidling along under the pier.  He seemed to be just about as fogged out as I was.

Shhh! Old Gus is Sleeping!

   Early this morning, Mark took the little skiff out on the Bay for a bit of fishing.  I stayed behind on the pier for a bit before heading to do some gardening chores.  While on the pier, a thick fog was enshrouding the entire Bay but I did manage to catch a few photos of our resident Brown Pelican.  The bird was sitting on a post at my brother's pier not far from ours.  The bird was sound asleep!  Shhh!  Do not wake Old Gus!

  It is easy to tell when a Brown Pelican is sleeping merely by observing its position.  With the large bill, the bird has to find some way of not toppling forward when dozing.  The method that works is to twist the head to one side, tuck the large bill up under a wing and the sit perfectly balanced.  Old Gus was in this position at daybreak but when he heard Mark's outboard motor crank he stretched out his neck and settled back into the usual awake perching position.  This is with the neck tucked but bill forward.  The bird can still rest but can also keep watch on what is happening around him.  

  

The fog obviously had Old Gus a bit drowsy as he made no attempt at leaving his post all the while I was on the pier.  He sat and rested.  It was about four hours later before he decided to make the effort of getting out of "bed" to catch breakfast.  Old Gus was lazy this morning!  Shh...he is sleeping!

Foggy Morns, Werewolves and Skewed Views

   For the past few mornings, it has been terrifically foggy.  It reminds me of the old horror movies where a werewolf is stalking a hapless pedestrian through dark trails in a heavily wooded area.  It reminded me of that but, to be honest, I have yet to see fog accumulate in the thick woods.  Here on the Bayou, the fog stays over the marsh and water.  It is not often that much settles in even in the treed areas of the yard.  Anyway, the fog had settled in overnight causing everything to be sort of drippy.  It would, indeed, have been the perfect werewolf sort of morn but, alas, none were to be found.

  Instead, I found fog-laden spiderwebs! (Albeit, wolf spiders so maybe those can be my werewolves!) I also found lovely droplets dangling on every leaf and twig.  To me, those are intriguing so, of course, it is required to photograph a few.  If you ever take the time to really look at the droplets, they contain a skewed image of the area beyond.  Things are flipped upside down and have weird, bendy shapes as they arch with the convexity of the droplet.  When viewed through a droplet, the world appears as it would in a dream world.  Everything is perfectly clear but topsy-turvy and, no matter how you try to focus, the brain does not want to wrap around the sight.  

  The old rose bush was coated with the heavy layer of fog.  The droplets slowly rolled down the leaves to form a large drip that lingered long enough for me to study.  Then...splat!  Down on the ground it went.  My dreamland was shattered on the mulch!  Ok, so it was probably time to stop creating "Tales of the Fog" and get the chores started for the day.  Still...that werewolf could be just around the next curve in the path!

Purely Magical Sunrise

  After a pretty much sleepless night, I headed to the pier before dawn.  Tossing and turning in the bed is ridiculous.  It was time to start the day.  Once there, I realized that this was no ordinary day.  It was more on the weird side than anything.  The sunrise was not even "right".  In fact, in all my years being on the Bayou, I had never experienced a day breaking in such a manner.

 

  There was a slight ridge of fog out over the mid part of the Bay.  It started back in the bowels of the Bayou and streamed out to the middle of the open water.  Fog is not anything new but seeing a long streak was.  Usually, the fog is low-lying and spread more over the marsh.  Then when the sun started to peek over the pines, it illuminated the fog streak near the mouth of the Bayou with such a brilliance that it was almost blinding.  The sky above the fog was blue and dotted with white clouds and this was mirrored in the still waters.  It almost had an ethereal glow to it.  I was spellbound.

  Then, the sky turned golden and the fog thickened to block out everything making it seem to be a lot darker than it should have been at that time.  The sun, however, was higher and absolutely blinding.  I was so enthralled by the phenomenon that I hardly noticed the family of otters playing nearby or the osprey flying overhead.  The mystical view had captured my full attention.  Folks, you never know what you will miss by lingering inside.  Get outside...see the magic!

Mysterious Bayou

     Just after what would have been daybreak, Mark and I headed to the pier on our usual hike about the place.  There was no sunrise as it was foggy.  In fact, it was so foggy that our jackets soon became coated with a fine layer of water.  Our footsteps were muffled by the wet mulch as we padded lightly down the hillside.  Then, we had to be careful not to slip and slide on the new pier boards.  One misstep and we would have been down in the mucky marsh.  This is to my liking, however, as it seems our sounds are not easily picked up on by the critters.  They, too, are out and about taking full advantage of the silencing of the fog.

  Moe, the Great Blue Heron, was using the fog to help him catch his breakfast.  He was able to stand motionless in the shallows without casting a shadow.  Minnows and baby mullet were not able to see him!  I watched as the bird snagged several nice fish in just a few moments.  

  The fog works both for and against critters.  The fog heightens critters' ability to catch a scent of another animal but the muffling effect can make detecting the whereabouts of that critter difficult.  Being as most hunt by catching a glimpse of motion, if a predator or prospective prey sits motionless, it is almost impossible to be seen. I have had animals literally walk right up to me before actually realizing I was there.  They knew I was in the area but finding me was a different story.  It all adds to the mystery of the Bayou!

  This morning's fog soon turned to a heavy rain which lasted the entire day.   More rain is to come and then a cold spell for a few days.  I am in hopes that the "wintry mix" will stay north of the Bayou as it could wreak havoc on the gardens.  This, however, is typical February weather here so the critters and I have both learned to live with our ups and downs.  Fog, rain, cold...repeat.

My Own Little "Brigadoon"

   Fog is one of those weird things that can make you lose your way or help you find yourself.  Yeah, that sounds odd but it is true if you ponder things as much as I do.  Today was foggy.  There is nothing unusual about that as it is our standard winter weather.   We have fog, rain, cold and back to fog.  Nothing has changed with that for centuries.  It is just a lovely part of living in the Deep South.  But about losing or finding things may need explaining.

  It is easy to understand how you can become disoriented when out wandering on a foggy morn.  Landmarks can become distorted and, if you are not careful, you can wind up going the wrong way real fast.  When I was a kid, Pop and I would often go fishing before the sun would rise.  Occasionally, a thick fog would cover the Bay.  He would tell me to "watch the shoreline" so we would be sure not to venture into the channels.  It was easy to think you were seeing the shore but, at times, it was merely shadows.  It was a strange feeling to not have any idea where you were.  Landmarks were not to be seen and we would be lost.  Pop and I always made the best of it by dropping anchor and fishing until the sun burned off the fog but, had we kept going, we could have ventured into the channels and been overrun by the large tugboats.  It was a case of "better to be safe, than sorry".

  As for finding yourself, sitting on the pier while being totally cut off from the hubbub of the world, gives you time to think.  Fog has a way of, not only blanking out sights, but muting sounds, as well.  During dense fogs, it is easy to imagine that you are the sole person in the area.  When that happens it is easy to start putting your life in some sort of better perspective.  Your mental state can greatly improve by the solitude even if that solitude is caused by things around you being shrouded from view.

  My mind has a tendency to wander in all sorts of directions.  Today was no different even though the fog was different.  Instead of being a pea-soup thick fog over the whole area, it was concentrated more on the other side of the Bay.  Only a sheer layer laid in over the Bayou.  The densest portion stayed over the air force base on the opposite side of the Bay.  Once again, I had that feeling that "Brigadoon" was going to appear any moment. (Brigadoon being the mythical city in the Scottish Highlands in the musical by the same name.)  Thinking of the idyllic town made me wistful of better, happier times.  It also made me appreciate my little place that much more.  To me, it is every bit as utopian as Brigadoon seemed in the musical.  I think I shall stay put.  Life is good.

Going For Bigger And Better!

   I am not sure just why but I find spiderwebs and fog a perfect combination.  The droplet-laden webs remind me of the perfect compilation of Mother Nature's art.  Since we are in that weather pattern known as Somewhat Winter in the Deep South, fog occurs often.  If I notice that it is a foggy morn, a hike must begin immediately after the first mug of coffee.  It is mandatory!  Regardless of what has been planned, a quick jaunt around the place searching for webs is a must.

  Mostly, I search for the large webs that span between tree limbs,  These carry the droplets in a draping pattern much like a beaded necklace.  Occasionally, however, I will drop to my knees to photograph the ground spiders that make funnel webs in the grass.  The spiders are quick and often dart into their funnels before a picture is taken.  I often wonder how often their webs are destroyed by clumsy oafs such as myself.  Sometimes, the hillside is pure white with the dew-laden or fog-laden webs.  

  Then there are the webs that are beyond understanding.  These are the ones that have no rhyme or reason as to where they are placed.  I understand that the webs are the spider's sole means of catching prey but you just have to wonder why?  Why? Why is the web here?  This cannot be the most efficient method of bug-catching.

  Down the hillside a small oak tree had popped up since the last time I mowed the grass.  It stood about a foot high in a wide open space.  A spider had decided that this "treetop" was the ideal spot for a web.  The spider covered the entire top of the sapling with webbing.  The spider was a tiny one so perhaps this was a first attempt at its own web design.  Then, again, maybe the little one knew what it was doing and covered the top in hopes of snaring anything that climbed the sapling.  Whatever, the spider had its beginning.   I have to admit that the web caught my eye and captured my attention so much that I returned to it several times.  The unusualness of the location drew me like a magnet so maybe that spider was pretty smart.  If bugs are as curious as I am, then the spider will soon move on to bigger and better things!

Bayou Weather....Foggy with gnats!

   We are back into our winter "cycle" of rain, cold, warm and fog.   The cycle has its good points and a few bad.  Just when you think you are all settled in for a nice bit of cold weather, the winds shift, temperatures rise and heavy fog lays in across the Bay.  The fog lingers for most of the day keeping things damp and muggy.  A good side to all of this fog and warmth, the garden is doing well.  Cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower and mustard greens are filling the rows nicely.  One of the bad sides, is gnats and mosquitoes never leave.  Just about the time you think they should be gone due to the chill, you are attacked!  Those are the days you find yourself wishing for a lovely freeze!

  This morning, a light fog shrouded the Bay and Bayou.  It blocked enough of the view to make things appear a bit spooky.  The "Bayou Creature" would love just such a morning to make an appearance!  But...he did not show.  Our Bayou Creature is just about as elusive as Big Foot!  The name is applied to any unusual wail or moan that can be heard coming from the bowels of the Bayou.  Far back where the Bayou meets a creek and turns into a swamp, any number of critters can let out yells that can run chills up your spine especially if you are roaming about in the predawn fog. 

  Years ago, the kids and I loved to hike through the swamps during foggy evenings.  Because our footsteps were muffled by the wet leaves, it was not uncommon for us to stumble upon critters out on the hunt.  Bobcats, coyotes, fox, coons and rabbits were often seen before they noticed us.  To my way of thinking, this was one of the best learning situations the kids could have ever experienced.  They grew up knowing how to react or how to "not act" when encountering wild animals.  Never once did we feel threatened and we respected the critters enough to back off and let them continue on their way. 

  No critters were found on this morning's hike.  It was short and sweet but I had work to do.  It was a fine morning to mulch more of the hurricane debris pile!  The weather was warm enough to work in short sleeves...until those pesky gnats found me!  Weather....Southern Weather....Bayou Weather!  When is that next cold snap??

Fishing, a Spaceship and a Priest

  I had a very fitful night of tossing and turning due to a backache.  I awoke at midnight in a fit of agony and only got intermittent sleep thereafter.  Well, there was nothing to do but get out of bed at 4am and head to my happy place, the pier. Walking seems to be the best remedy for any type backache so walking is what I did.  Since it was still quite dark outside, the pier seemed to be the safest place to do any sort of hiking.  Being several hundred feet long and well above the marsh, I felt relatively safe from stepping on a moccasin.  The pier planks seem to grasp any bit of moonlight and are a lot brighter than any path under the trees.  Back and forth, I hiked the length of the pier twenty times and soon was feeling some better.  It was while I was on the pier that things took a turn to the wild side!

  Once I stepped up on the ramp going to the main pier, it became obvious that a heavy fog had laid in overnight.  Ahh, my favorite hiking time!  Things seem so different when cloaked in fog.  The mistiness can sure make things look kind of creepy but. at the same time, beautiful.  This morning, things were slightly different than our usual, winter fog days.  Now, there were leaves that filled out trees making them appear to be huge monsters but, monsters aside, it was that spaceship that caught my eye!

  Yep, the spaceship is what got my full focus once I was on the end of the pier.  It is not often that you can have an actual sighting!  In reality, the "spaceship" was merely the gazebo across the Bayou but it looked a whole lot different when shrouded by fog.  The imagination ran wild and memories were brought back into the open after being stowed away in the dark corners of the brain.  A story about fishing, a spaceship and a priest.  Does it get any better than that?

  One day after an early morning fishing trip, Pop came home with a pretty wild tale.  This was when I was a youngster and before all of the homes and gazebos were built.  As Pop was fishing from his skiff, his good friend arrived to fish near him.  This friend was a priest from the local church.  The story was related of how they were catching flounders and talking when suddenly on the horizon, there appeared a strange craft.  This "spaceship" came toward them and stopped to hover several hundred feet away.  Pop said it was round, had lots of lights but never made a sound.  After it hovered for about ten minutes, the lights started flashing and it shot straight up in the air until it was out of sight.  Pop went on to tell how his friend, the priest, was shaken and asked if it was a spaceship.  Pop, trying to be strong and reassuring, said he did not know but it sure may have been.  Both fishermen decided to ease their way closer to the old pier and wait until sunrise before venturing any further.  

  To this day, there has been no explanation as to what Pop and the priest had seen.  It could have been anything but it left them both with ideas of it being aliens.  This morning's "spaceship" did not fly off into the wild, blue yonder but sat grounded.  I guess my imagination went a little overboard.  But...that Godzilla like creature that was as tall as the trees sure looked real to me!  

What's Not To Love?

  After several months of struggle with one thing or another, it was brought to my attention that for everything that is trying to get you down, there is a thousand to pick you up again.   An attitude adjustment was definitely needed!  I was bound and determined that it was going to happen!  Life is just too good to go around in a blue funk. Life is far too short and far too good!  

  This new outlook was to start with the coming dawn as there is nothing like starting a day with a smile on the face.  At daybreak, my morning walk took me down to where there is a break in the tree-line along the east side of the property.  Here, I can gaze out across part of the Bayou and watch the sun rise.  Obviously, a thick fog had laid in over the night so my "sunrise" was more of a sun "glimmer" but it was a glimmer of perfection.  My little piece of paradise never looked so fine.  The fog may have blocked the radiant beams of sunlight but left an overall ambient glow.  From the glistening mudflats (from low tide) to the deep shadows of the trees, all was cast in an almost eerie glow.  Yes, the glimmer of perfection was the best way to describe the start of my day.

  As I stood there in awe of the Master Artist's glorious works, a thought...What's not to love?  Seriously?  What's not to love?  All it takes is one moment, one word, one kind gesture to start things going in a far better direction.  Even in the soft glow of the morn, I could now see this clearly.  Good morning, world!  It's a new day! 

The Disappearing Act!

  Overnight, we had a heavy fog lay in across the Bayou.  It so thick that at one point I began to think it was raindrops on the roof but it was merely the fog accumulation dripping from the tree limbs.  This morning, the fog lingered as I strolled about the place.  The walk to the pier was pointless as nary a thing could be seen other than "white" so I headed around to the back behind the canebrake. Since I could see no further than about twenty feet ahead of me, I figured that perhaps some critter would still be out and about.  No critters were found other than spiders.  The ground behind the canebrake was littered with webs ranging from twelve to fifteen inches in diameter.  These were webs of the local "funnel-web" spiders.

  Each web found had a distinct funnel-like tube in one corner.  This funnel housed a small spider that was waiting patiently for some bug to either alight on the web or crawl across the surface.  The spider then darts out to see what is causing a ruckus on its web.  If the commotion was due to a suitable prey, the spider bites it and waits a few moments before dragging its breakfast down the tunnel.  It does not devour its prey in the open as that would alert other potential victims to the use of the web.  

  These spiders belong to the family Agelenidae and are venom specific which means they are pretty much harmless to big, ole humans.  They are relatively shy spiders that scurry away rather than stand their ground if something is deemed a danger.  In fact, it is often very difficult to see one as even a shadow will scare them into hiding.  I was fortunate this morning as one particular spider did not think I was a menace.  Most of the webs seemed empty as the spider was far down in its funnel.  One, however, sat happily at the entrance and allowed me to photograph it from just inches away!  

  Our funnel-web spiders are not to be confused with those in other countries that can be highly venomous.  Even if you could catch one of ours and it did bite you, it would not be too bad.  Our spiders are "lightning-fast" so catching one would be a feat!  In just a blink of an eye, that "oh, so bad" spider will dart under the first thing available to hide!  Personally, I rather like them.  They make interesting webs, especially when covered with an early morning fog.  They are also great about catching would be pests.  Carry on, Little Spiders!  You have no reason to fear me!  I am so happy you let me photograph you!

Fog Is Important In Memories!

  Every year just about this time, I have flashbacks of a time long ago.  These are of a span of years between toddler and teens when I would have a special time with my grandmother.  She and I both loved the movie "Brigadoon" and would share a special time watching it together.  The tradition started when I was about 5 years old and lasted until my teens when she passed.  I would spend the night at her house watching the movie and sipping milked down tea in her fine teacups.  It was our own special "togetherness" time...a time that I will never forget.   

  This time of year always reminds me of the bond shared between the two of us and our love for the old movie.  It is nothing more than the weather that starts rattling around amidst the cobwebs in the far corners of my brain until it shakes out the memories, dusts them off and lets me revel in a bit of bittersweet happiness.  This morning, the weather did its part of jogging the memories from their hiding place.  Overnight, a thick fog developed and completely whited out the Bayou and its surrounding areas.  I could not see ten feet in front of me as I headed to the pier.  This always gives me an almost eerie but equally serene feeling.    After about an hour, the fog lifted from our area but was still heavy across the Bay.  A low lying fog stayed above the channel that separates the two lands.  The island to my right was vividly apparent but the shore just beyond was shrouded in the mist.  Only the tops of the buildings and the tall water tower could be seen.  "Brigadoon" (better known around here as Keesler Air Base) was emerging from the mist!  My memories started running wild. 

  It is also times like this that spurs the imagination into gear.  All sorts of fanciful tales were causing a ruckus in the mind.  Tales of disappearing villages, true love and, of course, fog!  Fog is important in all ramblings of the mind!

"White Stuff" on the Ground!

  Yes, it is true!  There is "white stuff" on the ground here on the Bayou.  This white stuff is not snow, however.  It is supposed to be quite chilly and rainy tonight so who knows what we might see in the morning...probably not snow...but who knows?  Anyway, the white stuff on the ground this morning was compliments of the heavy, pea-soup thick fog that blanketed the area.  The fog was so thick that it settled low to the ground and covered every spiderweb it touched.  The ground spiders had soggy houses overnight.  

  The ground spiders here pretty much have it made.  There are plenty of insects that creepy-crawl around during the evening hours.  All a spider has to do is make its web inviting and, invariably, by morning, the spider has a meal.  But, if that spider is not careful as to where it spins its web, the whole thing can become a soggy mess by either a quick change in tides, by a torrential downpour or, as in this morning's case, a heavy fog.  The fog may not present much of a problem for the spider itself but it may make the web uninviting to an intended prey.  If the spider did not catch its supper before the fog set in, it may well have gone hungry.  

  All of this fog means one thing for the spider and yet another for us.  A change of the weather is at hand.  The wind is blowing a gale, there are intermittent showers and it is turning much colder.  While some folks are bemoaning our change from the warm weather of yesterday, I needed it.  Being in sort of a down mood, a good storm will clear the brain.  Hearing the wind howl and rattle the windows of the Little Bayou House can brighten any day...or, at least, mine...the spider's day?  Not so much.  Poor, hungry spider!

Advice on a foggy morn...

  The other morning, Son and I were meandering about the hillside when he made the remark "It is almost fog-time." He was referring to the time of year when fog seems to be a daily occurrence.  Little did he know (or maybe he did!), that the very next morning would find us in the midst of a pea-soup thick fog.  Everything was white!  We could not see the end of the pier, the house across the Bayou nor the tops of the tall pines. The fog-time had come.

  In a way, I like the foggy morns that linger into late afternoon.  I feel shut off from the world almost as if I am on my own little island.  The world may be buzzing around me but the thick layer of fog blocks out any evidence.  Even sounds are muted which adds to the mystique.  Usually, these days will find me on the end of the pier with my mug of morning coffee.

 This morning was much the same.  Mark and I headed to the pier but, instead of tarrying there, he hopped into the little skiff.  To him, these days are perfect fishing days!  I stayed on the pier just long enough to watch him disappear into the fog.  I did give him one bit of advice even though he was fully aware.  If fishing on one of these foggy days,  Pop always used to say "Watch the shoreline! You sure do not want to wind up in the channel."  The large tugboats traveling the channels cannot see a small skiff in time and the result could be devastating.  It is best to stay near the shore and not venture too far into the vision impairing fog.  Good advice from a wise man.

The Beauty Of Hardware Cloth

  Living on the Bayou has its ups and downs.  Some might say there are more troublesome things than positive but it seems that for every woe there is a fix.  Like most homes down here, we have screens covering our windows.  This is meant to keep the hordes of bugs from entering the house.  Sleeping with the windows open is a natural thing as it lets in the cooling night air.  The bad side of this is those mosquitoes (roaches, moths, gnats, midges, etc) which aggravate the stew out of a person trying to sleep.  The window screens work well to guard against the bugs but...what happens when larger critters take a liking to the inside of the house?  We have had times where raccoons, 'possums and even feral cats have tried to rip the screens to get inside.  This is not good so Mark came up with the idea of not only using screening but layering it with hardware cloth.  This has worked fine against the marauding critters!  There have been no more torn screens nor attempted invasions.  While some folks may think it is a tad strange...those same folks don't live amidst the critters.

  It was that hardware cloth that brought a smile this morning.  Our never-ending fog was particularly heavy overnight.  It was so thick, in fact, that it sounded more like rain than fog!  The stuff coated everything including the hardware cloth covering the south-facing windows.  These are the windows that have dozens of crystals that normally catch the morning sunlight and cast rainbows over the entire room.  Since there was no sun, there were no rainbows but that did not stop the beauty.  The fog droplets started running in strings down the wire of the hardware cloth making the entire window appear to be covered with crystals!  Hundreds upon hundreds of the droplets caught any light available to give of the slightest twinkle.  To be honest, it was breath-taking!

  There are those who may think I am a bit daft (and I do not contest this at all) but I figure you should find beauty where you are.  There is absolutely no point in having to search for grand things when they are all around you.  In my case, Mother Nature decided to add her charm to my window crystals by adding a multitude of her own.  It seems the hardware cloth is now a favorite for yet another reason.

The "Lichen Hike"

  Son often says that I am easily amused.  I admit to the fact that I can be intrigued by the most ordinary things on earth.  What others find mundane, I find interesting...so interesting, in fact, that I become completely engrossed.  Lately (with my hikes being shortened due to care for the old dog), my in depth investigations are limited to mosses, lichens and fungi.  These are easily obtainable due to our heavy fogs and copious amounts of rain.  (The Deep South is quickly becoming akin to a rain forest! Well, at least in the imagination.) 

  On a short hike to take the old dog out, I came across yet another beautiful lichen that had been knocked from the old oak tree.  It seems that the squirrels delight in pulling the fluffs from the limbs as they are used to line the squirrels' nests.  It is an interesting thing, when you think about it.  Squirrels are smart.  Lichens are on the squirrels' diet list.  When times get lean, they can eat their houses!  Not many critters can say that!  Anyway, back to that lichen, finding it sent me into another tizzy!  I need to be collecting these things as specimens for my greenhouse transformation come October!  I have already decided that for the clue hunt this year, the greenhouse needs to be covered in mosses but....what respectable swamp witch hut would be without lichens?  

  My interest in this particular lichen was how adorable each frond was.  When getting up close and personal with the lichen through the camera lens, I was duly impressed by the shapes and colors.  I found them pretty while one friend said they looked a lot like  "man-eating plants from a horror movie".  Well, maybe.  But, then again, I never found horror movies terribly horrifying so maybe I am mistaken.  Still, gathering the downed lichens has become a priority on my short hikes.  It gives me something to look forward to as the old dog does his business and then heads back to the house.  He waddles along the path while I juggle handfuls of wet lichens.  We understand each others idiosyncrasies so all is good.