The Saga Continues But With New Actors

   Years ago, I noticed that a Cooper's Hawk and Great Horned Owl seemed to be almost friendly if that is at all possible in the world of predatory birds.  The pair could often be found in the same tree.  Usually, I would notice the hawk first then, if I carefully looked, the owl would be just a few feet away.  This odd relationship continued for years.  Eventually, neither bird could be found.  I would often hear hawks and owls but the odd pair had disappeared.  Perhaps age caught up with them.  I missed seeing these birds but life went on and they were soon nothing but a happy memory.  Then...this morning...another odd pair appeared.  

  I was coming back from my usual predawn walk to the pier when I heard the loud call of a Red-shouldered Hawk.  They have a very distinct (and loud!) call so it was easy to know who was in the backyard.  I eased my way around through the garden and back behind the shed.  There, in a tall pine tree, my loud-mouthed bird was perched.  The sun had not risen enough to get clear photographs of the bird from my angle so I "boldly" walked out nearer the tree.  I figured the hawk would take flight and that would be the end of that!  Nope, the hawk continued to yell all the while looking down upon me.  So...a few photo attempts through the darkness.  It was not until I had taken a dozen or so pictures, that I noticed the owl just a few branches below the hawk.  A Great Horned Owl stared at me without making a sound.  Well, now!  A new pair of odd "friends" were making the rounds...the owl for perhaps a final snack before nodding off to slumber-land and the hawk searching for its first meal of the day.  

  If I see these two together again, it will be an odd occurrence especially after the previous sightings of an owl and hawk together.  That arrangement lasted nigh on 9 years.  It would seem strange if another pair continued the saga.  I will have to take special notice on my early morning hikes for the next few weeks.  

Lurking on the dark path

   When your hike takes you along some dark paths at daybreak, everything seems to loom larger, stay darker and appear to be downright scary at times.  The same path during the bright daylight hours is totally different.  This morning, my hike down by the wild persimmon trees was only lit by the ambient light of the morning sunrise and that was dimming quickly due to thick, dark clouds.  Not one to be afraid of the dark, I pressed forward choosing my steps carefully.  Back here, there are still some places that hold Hurricane Zeta debris from several years ago.  I figured there was no need to let some random, rusty nail pierce my soft moccasins and, thus, my foot.  So, I stepped lightly while also keeping a sharp eye for any impending "danger" that may lurk in the shadows.  Coyotes and bobcats are known to roam freely here during the night.

  Just as I made a bend in the path, I paused.  The bare treetops were clearly outlined against the clouded sky.  A huge "blob" was huddled in the top of one of the persimmon trees.  Coon?  My first thought was a raccoon had sought the tree as a place to settle in for a nap.  Something seemed off, however.  I stood quietly in the shadows waiting...waiting for movement that would identify my critter before I moved onward.  The figure shifted positions.  Still...not identifiable but, at least, not threatening.

  A few more minutes led to a fit of giggles!  My mystery critter was Bat!  My goofy cat had scooted down the path before me and climbed the tree.  When I rounded the corner, all I could see was a dark outline of a critter.  Like I said earlier...things seem to loom a lot larger than in real life. Bat is a huge cat but he sure seemed to be a lot fatter while huddled up in the tree.  My silly, sweet cat was now winding around my legs wondering why was laughing.  Oh, Bat!  You are something else!

The Glorious Light

  I often claim that my predawn time on the end of the pier is my escape.  I can meditate, ready my mind and body for the day's chores and then sit back to enjoy the sunrise.  It is my "me time".  It is the time when the whole world seems at peace.  I enjoy this habit and make no excuses for keeping such odd hours.

  This morning, heavy clouds blocked out most of the sun's attempts of giving one of its glorious performances.  Instead of the kaleidoscopic array of colors, there was dark grey.  Instead of sunbeams shooting across the horizon, there was one momentary "hole" that let the bright rays spill out of the inkiness.  That "hole" was mesmerizing even though fleeting.  It almost appeared to be a doorway to a much more beautiful place than this world could ever offer.  The urge to step through that entryway was tempting the body and soul. 

  Bat (the cat) and I watched the brilliance for the few moments it appeared.  Then...total darkness engulfed us again.  Our chance to "escape" had slipped from reach and now we had to settle in to face the day here.  No problem...he and I started our day with happy ideas bouncing around in our minds...his of exploring the rooftop of the greenhouse and mine of springtime plantings.  Life goes on so we might as well make the best of it.  

The Comfort of Bat

   To start my day off on a happy note, my first moments of the day are often spent on the pier with a trusted friend.  In the past, these friends have been dogs.  Those faithful pups eagerly went on the predawn hikes with me and I felt quite safe with them.  Sadly, however, age had a way of catching up with them and they have left this world.  Now, I have a hiking cat.  While there has always been a cat about the place at any given time, none of the previous ones really liked to "hike".  Bat does.  He seems to have taken on the position as my "protector" and never lets me out of his sight for more than a few moments.  He brings a lot of comfort whether it be on the pier or in the garden.  This morning, I was happy to have him snuggling close to me.

  While it has never been an arguable point, my imagination does get the best of me at times, I suppose.  This morning as I sat and watched the sunrise, I noticed that Bat, the cat, was a bit tense.  He seemed to be on edge as the whisperings of the nighttime were starting to fade.  I did, too.  I could not put my finger on it but...it felt like I was being watched.  Needless to say, my predawn wanderings did not put me far from the Little Bayou House.  Instead of heading back into the "bowels of the Bayou", the Small Gardens were as far as we got.  Those felt safe.  Even after sunrise, Bat lounged on the lawn chair as I weeded the cabbages.

  Later, I reviewed the photographs of the (attempted) sunrise and was taken aback by a series of the images.  There, in the upper right center, seemed to be the entity that gave the feeling of angst.  Was this just me grasping at a way of explaining that uneasy feeling or was there actually something watching me from afar?  Nine of the eleven photographs had an eerie "skull" leering down at me!  Uh, oh!  Was this what Bat sensed?  Was this our creepy watcher?  Sometimes that imagination gets out of hand totally!  Hmmm?  I am sure glad Bat was hanging close.  Maybe we should spend a little more time in the Small Gardens for a few mornings.

Those Magical, Purple Skies!

  As is my habit, I was up before the sun even thought about peeping over the pines on the far side of the Bayou. This is "me time".  It is the time when I can collect my thoughts without interruption.  It is the time when I can soak in as much tranquility as the Bayou can muster.  This time is usually spent alone as the menfolk in the household are still fast asleep but, lately, Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, has been joining me.  He and I sit on the pier and stare eastward at the kaleidoscopic colors of the breaking dawn.  We sit quietly enjoying our togetherness.  We both can "feel" the beauty deep down in our souls.  He is a good cat.

  While this morning offered not a gorgeous sunrise due to the heavy fog, yesterday morning was quite different.  The whole eastern sky was on a temperature scale ranging from the palest of yellows to the deepest of purples.  (Those who crochet will grasp the reference to "temperature scale".  Everyone else...use your imagination.) The purple is what was the most stunning.  At one point the entire sky was purple except for a wee yellow line on the horizon.  This purple is not that rare of an occurrence.  You just have to be there at the right time.  The purple is caused by a temperature change in the upper part of the atmosphere during certain times of the year.  It seems that cooler air reflects the sun's light in different ways and makes the sky appear purple at times. Works for me.  

  Speaking of change, if you are so inclined to believe things, that purple sky can be seen as a harbinger of greater change in life.  A natural phenomenon can bring vast change in the way we see things or how we deal with things.  If a purple sky brings you joy, then sit back and enjoy it for it will be a fleeting thing.  Then ponder if there is anything YOU can do to change what needs to be amended.  Life is good...you may as well let it be magical.

  

Refocus

   With all the everyday hubbub, it is easy to lose focus on what really matters.  "Things that need to be done" can oftentimes get in the way of what "should be done".  We all get hung up in chores, duties to others and the humdrum of everyday life that we forget to keep an eye on that "should be done" which is take care of ourselves.  I know I am that way much to a fault.  Lately, I have not dedicated any time whatsoever to selfcare and my physical, as well as, mental state is taking a severe hit.  It has got to stop.

  That was the revelation that I had on the pier this morning before dawn.  The skies were just beginning to glow that glorious golden orange when I noticed a lone heron standing hunched over in the shallows near the marsh.  The bird was slightly hidden behind some tall cord grass and it took some focusing of the camera to be able to photograph the bird.  After getting my picture, I watched as the bird looked so forlorn...so forgotten.  I know herons are solitary birds meaning they prefer to be alone except when seeking a mate but this fellow did give the appearance of being lonely.  

  Pondering the bird, the difficulty focusing the camera and the forlornness of the setting, I came to the conclusion that I needed change.  I needed me.  I guess it is time to shuffle the daily workload for a while so I can get back to me.  Refocus...

Nothing Else Is Needed

   Life has been tiring for the past few years.  It seems as soon as one thing is settled, something else is thrown in the works and the turmoil starts again.  That is one good thing about the social distancing of the past couple of years.   I can isolate myself from the busybodies and not feel guilty.  I have come to realize that not everyone who professes to be a friend (or family member) really cares.  There are those who are only out for themselves but will use others in any way possible.  So...I isolated.  So...I continue to isolate.  I had an uncle who pretty much became a hermit (in the middle of the city but still a hermit) and kept from communicating much with those who aggravated him.  The man was obviously a genius!  Perhaps I am on my way to being a hermitess...(is that even a word?)

  Early this morning before the sun peeped over the pines, Bat (the cat) and I took our usual hike about the place.  The rains last night left the air clean and the scent of jasmine laid heavy around us.  He and I wandered the garden paths as the world around us was wakening.  It occurred to me that this life is pretty good.  Not much else is needed.  Not much else is wanted.  Tranquility.

Wild Potato!

  The early morning hours never fail in bringing new discoveries and delightful finds.  At daybreak, I was on the pier listening to the sounds of the world awakening.  With humans being more or less reluctant to rise before the sun, this time is dominated by the critter world.  I sit mesmerized by the melodies of the Bayou.  Of course, it is not only the sounds that are intriguing.  Many wondrous sights abound at that time, as well.  Like I said, most folks never see what the world has to offer because they do not take the time to roam about before dawn.  This morning as I was aimlessly wandering about the place, I noticed a rather large, white flower in the palmettoes.  Since, cottonmouths are also out at this time, I made a mental note to come back when I could see better and photograph the bloom.  

  I admit to forgetting about my intentions for a good while since cutting back a lot of the overgrowth near the pier took up far more time than intended.  It is hard, hot work but, if not done, the place gets quite snaky.  Once the chore was accomplished, it was picture-taking time!  The bloom was still in perfect condition!  So, I braved the palmetto clump to get close enough for a clear photo.  Ahh, lovely!

  This is the bloom of a wild potato!  It is a naturally occurring plant around this area (and most everywhere).  It prefers to be in some of the most inhospitable environments, however, such as the midst of the palmetto clump.  It is a vining plant with heart shaped leaves and a four inch bloom that is white with a rich, violet center.  Looking at the bloom, it is easy to see that it belongs to the morning glory family.  

  Most folks would deem this as a weed and probably use some chemical weed killer on it but I, on the other hand, love the wildflowers that dot the area.  This find brightened my day so, instead of a weed, it is indeed a "glory" and shall grow where it may.

Waiting For November

  So my predawn hikes have come to a grinding halt with the discovery of yet another cottonmouth.  This one was down near the wild persimmon trees which is my regular path.  It would not be fun to step on a snake (any snake) when you cannot see to identify it.  It is a well known fact that these snakes are nocturnal and do most of their hunting at night and that includes those dark, predawn hours.  So, the early hikes will be postponed until next winter and I shall be out and about well after daylight, in the meantime.

  Hiking before the sun rises above the pines on the opposite shore has always been a favorite thing of mine.  It gives me time to soak up my surroundings without being interrupted by other human life.  I can become one with the Bayou, so to speak.  I can breathe in the tranquility that only a swamp can provide.  I shall miss "my" time but it is best to think safety first.

  These photos show the peacefulness of that quiet time before the sun rises.  There are only a few minutes in which the world is calm as such.  Come November, I shall be out again.