Wildflower Walks

   Not being able to get out and push the mower has its perks aside from the obvious...letting someone else do the work.  A newfound love of wildflowers has occurred.  Yep, let that well manicured lawn go and let the wildflowers flourish!  Sure...most folks call them weeds but, as it currently is, they are wildflowers and I am happy with them.  

  Moseying down by the marsh edge in the early morning gives me the opportunity to view some of the blooms that will close during the heat of the day.  Both the spiderwort and evening primroses are long faded by the time most folks are even out of bed.  Only early risers can witness the beauty of such blooms!  Down next to the pier, there is one patch of  "seabeach" evening primrose that blooms regardless of the weather and any time of the year.  The one exception is they do not bloom during the heat of the day.  The plant prefers the cool, dampness of the night.  Let that sun rise high in the sky and the blooms tightly close.  I don't blame them.  I have the same preference.  I figure that my wildflower walks are the best way to greet the day.

Collections...Photographs and Seeds

   One of the perks of wandering about the marshline at the break of day is that I get to see all sorts of wondrous things that most other folks miss.  This brings to mind that old adage "You snooze, you lose!"  While it probably does not amount to a hill of beans to others, it is highly important on my "to do" list.  In about the upper third of that list is "Find, view and photograph everything about the swamps, marshes and waters."  If nothing else, my kids and grandkids will have a photographic assemblage to pilfer through after I am dead and gone.  Not that any of the pictures will be worth a dime but, at least, they will be able to see the wonders of the place through my eyes and before it is fully ruined by "progress".

  This morning's bit of loveliness was a Saltmarsh Morning Glory.  This, like all other morning glories, blooms at dawn then usually withers before noon.  This, unlike most other morning glories, is salt water tolerant which gives it the name.   Here, it flourishes.  The vines trail upwards of ten feet, has arrowhead shaped leaves and five inch blooms.  It does best when allowed to climb wherever it wishes without curtailment.   The blooms are pinkish purple with a deeper color throat.  Bees adore the nectar bearing blooms.

  Finding the Saltmarsh Morning Glories in bloom brought a smile to my face as this is one of the flowers that Pop always used to point out when we would fish along the shores.  Several times, he said he wished he could get a few seeds to plant along the old fish pond in the side yard but we never dared to traipse in the marshes to retrieve any.  Now, I find myself doing just that.  The marsh, albeit full of cottonmouths and gators, is not near so scary as when I was a kid.  My handful of seeds might be a sweet addition to the small gardens.  (Yes, I did go there.)

Purple Mornings

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

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

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

I've Got A Good Feeling....

  This morning's hike put me in one of those "right place at the right time" situations.  The sun was just popping up over the pines on the far side of the Bayou when I rounded the first bend in the path.  The old dog was busy sniffing a rabbit trail when a sudden shower of raindrops sprinkled down on my head.  Uh, oh!  My first thought was to hightail it to the Little Bayou House but then I realized that Mr. PJ was not budging from his rabbit scent.  Strange, since the old dog hates rain and will usually beat me to the house.  Ok, so my raindrops were not from clouds but from a tree limb not far above my head.  

  A beautiful osprey had settled in on a pine branch about twenty feet above me sending all the rain from the last shower down upon me.  Thanks, Osprey!  Well, I should be grateful as it could have been something else showering down upon me!  With the bird in clear view and the dog preoccupied, it was the perfect opportunity to get a few photographs.  I started snapping pictures thinking my movements would startle the bird into flight.  Nope.  In fact, it became interested in what I was doing and kept an eye on my every movement.  The bird sat as I photographed it until a real thunderstorm threatened.

  We have a good number of ospreys that call the Bayou their home now.  Years ago, the birds became threatened by the widespread use of the pesticide, DDT.  The chemical settled into the food sources and caused the shells of birds' eggs to become too thin to support the chicks.  Once DDT was banned, the birds made a comeback all over the country.  About twenty years ago, a lone pair moved into the area and, since then, they have multiplied greatly.  Dozens upon dozens of the birds now nest in our area and you can hear their high-pitched calls as they soar above the property.  It makes you feel good to watch them dive for fish knowing the Bayou is healthy enough for life...it makes you feel good.

 

Early Morning Rescue!

  At daybreak, it is my habit to take the old dog out for his morning walk.  As we walk (slowly due to his age and health), I watch critters.  The pace of our hike gives me ample time to photograph anything that catches my eye.  This morning, however, it was the dog, himself, that found a critter.  Mr. PJ sort of caused a major accident for a beautiful, yet delicate, creature.  As he was lumbering through the gate, he inadvertently knocked a butterfly from its perch.  Obviously, the creature had just come from its cocoon and was trying to stretch out and dry its wings.  Mr. PJ did not even notice.  He did a slow motion version of "hit and run".  The butterfly struggled to right itself.  It could not make the long three foot journey back to the gatepost so I knew I had to help.  Left on the ground, ants would have soon killed the lovely insect.  I gently slid my hand near the butterfly.  It had reservations, at first, but with a tiny bit of nudging, it climbed aboard for the "air-lift" to a nearby plant.  The butterfly immediately settled in on the begonia and started flexing its wings and I followed along behind old Mr. PJ.

  It was several hours later before I remembered the butterfly.  I decided to check on my new found friend just to assure myself that the old dog did not do major harm.  Mr. PJ is the type dog that would never intentionally harm anything so no blame could be put on him.  Happily, I was just in time to see the butterfly take flight!  Oh, happy day!  It did the heart good to think that perhaps a helping hand was all it took to save a life.

  The butterfly in question is none other than a Spicebush Swallowtail Butterfly.  This gorgeous creature is similar to another swallowtail, the Pipevine, but a few orange dots makes all the difference.  The Spicebush has two rows of dots, whereas, the Pipevine has a single row.  The mimicking coloration does a good job protecting the Spicebush!   The Pipevine is said to taste nasty to birds so they think twice about snatching the Spicebush thinking it may taste the same.  

Glinting in Blue

  Here lately, I cannot sleep past about 4am.  I am up, coffee brewed and ready to start the day.  I figure I might as well make use of the time if I am going to be awake so there is not much use in tossing and turning trying to go back to sleep. Just get up and get going.  Daybreak is one of my favorite times anyway so a hike is always in order.  Meandering about the hillside goes slowly since the old dog, Mr. PJ, cannot keep up the pace.  At one point this morning, the old dog needed a rest so while he sat, I photographed how the sun played on the leaves and created shadow puppets of weird shapes.  

  Just as the old dog was about ready to continue our walk, I noticed how the sun was shimmering on the bottle tree.   The bottles were aglow with the sunbeams!  This makeshift bottle tree was a clue hunt prop from several years ago.  The Annual Clue Hunt on the Bayou that year had a theme of Deep South Legends and so a bottle tree was a necessary addition.  It has become sort of a quirky part of the yard now and it would seem odd to remove it.  In reality, with today's light show, it occurred to me that perhaps I should expand the "limbs" on the tree and add a few different colored bottles.   While the blues are gorgeous, if there were a few more colors sparkling with the sunbeams, it would add another magical touch to the Bayou.

  For those who are not familiar with bottle trees, they are somewhat a custom down here in the Deep South.  The idea behind the "tree" dates back hundreds of years.  Empty bottles are stuck on the small branches of a dead tree or, nowadays, on a wire "tree".  The idea is that spirits are attracted to the colored glass and soon find their way into the bottles.  There, the spirits become trapped during the night and are destroyed by the morning sun.  According to legend, the spirits are most attracted to the cobalt blue glass but, in a pinch, any color will suffice.  

  Like I said, my bottle tree began as a clue hunt prop but has now become part of the mystical, magical existence of the Bayou itself.  I think it is probably here to stay.

Lurking Overhead...

  Yesterday's post was all about things lurking in the shadows on my morning hikes.  One can never be too careful when out before the sun rises.  That time of day sees most critters out and about. While I am not overly worried about my wild critters, those of the two legged sort would give me the jitters if I ever came across one.  Nowadays, people are scary!  I am thankful that I live down on the Bayou and not up near the main road.  Sometimes, swampy areas are a blessing.

  This morning, it was not a critter lurking in the palmettos or marsh that gave me cause for concern.  Just before the sun came up over the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou, I heard something on the rooftop!  What was creepy-crawling around up there?  Easing my way out the back door, I soon found my answer.  Two large, green eyes peered through the darkness at me.  Silly cat!  How did you get up there?  Ms. Nycto was stranded atop the house!  Earlier, I had heard a ruckus near the front door and figured there was some cat fight about to happen.  It never did and, obviously, it was because Ms. Nycto did a fancy escape.  She had climbed the oak tree next to the house, made the leap to the roof but then had no idea how to get down.  She is notorious for that.  More than once, we have had to come to her rescue.  This cat is not a fighter...nor very agile about climbing (at least, climbing down!).  Son had to let her in the upstairs window because she was not about to find her own way off the roof.

  The catfight began because there is a feral cat in the area.  This scraggly yellow cat is grubby, skinny and mean.  It will howl and hiss at anyone nearby and threatens other cats (and small dogs).  This morning's episode is the third time that Ms. Nycto has been "treed" by the feral cat.  Enough is enough!  It sure makes me wish that Ms. Put (the Bayou Queen) was still alive.  She never tolerated such misconduct and would have put the rogue in his place.  Many times, this tiny, six pound cat would reprimand (by literally mangling) wrongdoers that came to the Bayou to stir up trouble. I sure miss that little spitfire!  Ms. Nycto has no protection now other than the rooftop.  She needs to learn to stay inside where it is safe!

Someone is lurking in the shadows!

  During my early morning hikes around the Bayou, there are some pretty wild sights to be seen.  Critters are out in full force at that time as the nocturnal ones are heading to bed and the diurnal ones are shaking themselves awake.  Sometimes when I make the mistake of heading out too early, the shadows are tremendously dark and I ponder what might be lurking there.  Since the old dog, Mr. PJ, is not strong enough to be any defense, it is prudent that care is taken.  There is no reason to put him in a dire situation trying to protect me. 

  This morning, the sun was not cooperating about rising.  A thick cloud cover made things a bit shadier than norm.  Sounds from the Bayou were exaggerated causing a bit of angst but my hike was not to be hampered.  At one point, the red sky reflected in the last remaining tide pool in a nigh on empty Bayou.  My position put me in the right spot to see just what was wading about in the water.  Right in the middle of that reflection stood my friend, the heron.  The great blue heron was fishing for breakfast before dawn.

  The heron knew I was just a few feet from him but he made no effort to fly.  He was aware of the fact that I could not get to him without some doing since there was a small strip of marsh that included lots of brambles between us.  The bird felt safe and continued his hunt for breakfast and I went on about my merry way hunting for my next adventure.

A Towhee Sort of Morn

  It is no secret that my favorite time to hike is just before dawn.  Things are different then.  It is quiet except for the sounds of critters waking from a night's sleep.  It is peaceful as people have not yet begun to mar the day with their insensitivity, squabbles and unreasonable noise.  It a time uninterrupted by the hustle and bustle of the day.  It is my time.  In fact, it is about the only time that I can truly claim as my own because, before dawn, everyone else is still asleep and the old dog has gone back to his warm bed.  I guess I am the only crazy one on the Bayou.

  This morning as I eased my way down to the pier, a slight north wind was chilling me to the bone.  This would be a short hike since I forgot to don the heavy jacket.  Still, I needed the serenity of the early morn so I proceeded.  Just as I neared the pier, something rustled in the palmetto clump.  It sounded far to small to be a coon or rabbit so I thought perhaps the rice rats were scurrying to find their warm nests after a night out scavenging.  Nope.  Several small birds hopped out of the clump and sort skipped to the pier.  Ahhh, the towhees!

  The sight of these little birds never fails to thrill me.  They are perhaps the busiest birds to ever call the Bayou home.  These tiny birds are seldom seen since they prefer to scratch about in thickets.  This pair nested in the palmetto clump this past summer.  I knew they were there but with their excellent nest building and habit of hiding that nest, I was never able to see the little ones.  Since they are still hanging about the same bunch of palmettos, perhaps they plan on nesting there again.  Towhee Watch will go into full force this spring!  I love these little birds!

Web Roofs!

  Hiking after a night of rain makes for interesting finds.  The pine needle covered ground is saturated and that muffles the footsteps, the leaves on trees drip with jewels of raindrops and spiderwebs become diamond-encrusted lace.  It is those spiderwebs that tend to draw the eye toward them out of curiosity.  Where is that spider??  Most spiders on the Bayou are friendly enough that they do not cause worry but it is still wise to be careful of their whereabouts.  There is no need to have one climbing up the pants leg or going down the back of the shirt!

  While out on a hike to the back of the property, Mark and I found numerous ground webs.  These spiderwebs are spun on the ground and have a hole in the middle through which the spider can pounce on its prey.  The web is strung between sticks, blades of grass or fallen leaves.  They are thick heavy webs unlike those delicately spun hung webs.  While the spider is usually unseen, if you look carefully, it can be spied lurking near the center hole.  Once prey ventures onto the web, the vibrations alert the spider and it can come scurrying out to catch the critter.  Also, the web provides protection for the spider.  It is sort of a roof over its head!  Not only does it shield the spider from raindrops, it gives the spider a sporting chance of escape if it is attacked.

  The ground was covered with such webs after the rain. Each held up well under the torrential downpour and each spider was happily snug. 

Pretty Little Window

   On my early morning hikes about the hillside, I like to look for things that are often overlooked by others.  Whether it be a mossy knoll, a lichen covered tree or perhaps just colored pebbles on the pathway.  I feel all of these things are there for a reason and what better reason than for me to marvel.  A lot of folks have remarked that I dwell in my own little fantasy world and, in a way, that is true.  If I revel in the mystique of the Bayou, then I can escape from all of the drama of the worldly folks.  It probably would not take much shoving for me to move lock, stock and barrel to some remote location where I would not be bombarded by technology and busybody people.   

  This morning, Mr. PJ, the soon-to-be true Bayou Dog, joined me on a quick jaunt around the hillside.  Rain threatened at any moment so our leisurely stroll took on an air of urgency.  Even with his arthritic limbs, he fairly galloped beside me.  He could feel the excitement as could I!  Every so often, he would stop to sniff where some wild, unknown critter had been just hours earlier.  An armadillo had dug divots in its search for grubs.  A raccoon raided the wild persimmon tree again and dropped dozens of the little golden nuggets to the ground.  Two baby otters squeaked in the marsh.  Life was good for the old dog and I enjoyed seeing him explore.

  Down on the east side of the property where the shore meets the Bayou, I found something that intrigued me.  While PJ mosied nearby in search of new scents, a gap in the branches drew my attention. Through this window, I could see all the way across the Bayou to the opposite shore.  The dim morning light lit the area as if it were a stage.  I half expected some magical creature to come waltzing across the marsh at any moment.  None did, to my dismay, but I was still enthralled...creature or not.  

  The window was framed by yaupon and oak branches.  Beyond those, a small sliver of water surrounded by sedge grass and marsh.  Then in the far distance, cord grass was backed by groundsel bushes.  FInally, the tall pines stood watch over all.  The layering effect was marvelous!  My pretty little window provided by nature!